


... And Chill.

by Ringshadow



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Apparently making friends with Phil makes people decide to try porn, Bad fanfic porn reading is the literary version of bad hentai dubbing, Bondage, Cat Puns, Classy 1940s lesbians maybe, D&D porn, F/F, F/M, French Vanilla porn, It's always booze o'clock for Tony Stark, Justin Hammer Drama Queen, M/M, Mature adults dealing with things in mature ways, Nick is a whore for Ferrero Rocher, Oh god help me, Oral Sex, Phil is a really sappy retired porn star, Phil is collecting the Norse pantheon and he's confused about it, SNU SNU, Stealth Crossovers, The Dicktator is a hilarious wrestling name I don't care what you think, are boners a CON check, assume lots of enthusiastic sex THIS IS A PORN STUDIO AU, cats rule the internet, here we go again, sfw lube covered porn stars, slip and slide party maybe?, well eventually lot sof enthusiastic sex, yes Harry Hart is a peripheral character deal with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 26,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5081074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ringshadow/pseuds/Ringshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil owns a porn studio. A rather diverse one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did threaten to write a porn verse. Fast update, stream of consciousness and next to no editing here we come!
> 
> Little short kickoff to start. Let me know if I should bother continuing it.

"My point is, all roads of my life have led me to your bomb-ass dick."  
  
Phil just barely quirked an eyebrow. It's only nine AM for fuck's sake, and here he is, at his desk staring at Tony Stark, who was happily dressed this time. Well, possibly Tony wasn't happy about it but Phil was, he doesn't want naked-Tony all over his clean sofa even if all the covers are machine washable. "That is possibly the saddest statement I've heard this week. Especially out of a man who is apparently revolutionizing green power when he's not in my studio bothering my actual actors."  
  
"I'm totally one of your actors!" Tony never sat still. Currently he was looming, leaning his hands on Phil's desk and staring at him.  
  
"You're a hobbyist." He sipped his tea. "A hobbyist with a fandom. Semipro at best."  
  
Tony pouted.  
  
Phil had seen that expression when Tony was marked with streaks of come so he's not entirely impressed. "Are you mad because you didn't get to fuck me before I retired? Because I am so over being a checkmark on someone's resume. I don't perform anymore. That, ahem, bomb-ass dick of mine you're referencing is from porn from almost five years ago."  
  
"What? Are you mad because you're aging? Do you think the cane kills your sex appeal? Did your car accident cut it off or something?" Tony wanted to know. "Like you can blame me for wanting to take you for a ride."  
  
"Can, will, currently am. Better men and women than you have tried to get me back in front of the camera."  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
"Look. I was thinking about retiring anyway. I am not exactly poor. I own the studio. I had done over a thousand adult films." He shrugged slightly. "And I wasn't getting younger, and frankly I didn't want to be consigned to endless daddy kink or hot for teacher roles. It's done. I get enough play to be happy."  
  
"Cruel and unusual. You could have a harem of schoolgirls and schoolboys."  
  
"Eh. I had one before I retired. Really high maintenance and they get jealous of each other far too easily for supposedly professional porn stars."  
  
"This guy bothering you?"  
  
Phil looked at the doorway and smiled. Steve was an unusual creature, slender and almost elven, but he exuded masculinity. He also had the manners and carriage of a previous age, was a bit of a dom, and was surprisingly hung for his size. "No more than usual."  
  
"He won't fuck me! Why am I the only person he won't fuck?" Tony gesticulated at Phil while looking at Steve.  
  
Steve didn't bat an eye. "I haven't slept with him. Probably half the studio hasn't because we hired in after he retired. You aren't entitled to a free pass to the boss man's dick any more than I'm entitled to a free pass to motorboat Natasha."  
  
That made Phil laugh. "From you, she might be okay with it."  
  
"I'd never. Unless asked or previously discussed."  
  
"Why do I deal with you people?" Tony sulked.  
  
"Because for some goddamn reason I agreed to you doing a film then you never left. Get out of my office." He watched Tony leave, noting he stole a DVD on the way out. "You can buy your own goddamn copy of that!" He called after him then sighed, picking his tea back up. "How's Bucky?"  
  
"He's good. Natasha asked to borrow him, so I was wondering what's on the schedule."  
  
"She has a Dom/sub photoshoot thing soon. SHIELD bondage gear, new line. The camera loves Bucky."  
  
"Hm. Alright I'll talk to him about it."  
  
"Thank you." His doorway was knocked on and he smiled when he saw Nick standing there. "Hey."  
  
"You have interviews today and I want to know how it goes."  
  
"Did you spend last night watching our interviewees’ resumes?" He lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Anyone I might have heard of?" Steve was curious.  
  
"Maybe. One's Justin Hammer."  
  
"See, that's the one I am not certain about. That guy exudes business skeeze. He's practically made and molded in LA, just looking at his photos I could smell Malibu." Phil snorted. "He's not the usual aesthetic we court."  
  
"We don't have a usual aesthetic." Nick gave Phil a look as Steve excused himself. "That's the entire fucking reason you convinced us to ditch LA."  
  
"Before we all turned to plastic and dust?" Phil wanted to know, smiling as Nick stepped in further and walked around the desk, leaning into the attention when Nick rubbed a hand over his short thinning hair.  
  
"We're well on our way to being dust anyway."  
  
He pinched one of Nick's legs. "Asshole. So, Justin Hammer. From what I saw he's making a lot of money right now, and he's very busy. I have no idea why he sent his resume."  
  
"I have some theories. Did you read the descriptions of what he's doing?"  
  
"Pft, yeah. He's the porn industry's current go to for a Christian Grey rip-off or whatever the fuck that guy from Fifty Shades of Bullshit is named." Phil snorted. "I watched a clip. He manages the role well. He seems more RACK aware than the books. You know if Natasha finds out he's coming here she's going to want to beat him with a crop then have another book fueled barbeque."  
  
"If we can grab him and get him to conform to the studio RACK rules, he could be a money maker. He has fans, they might follow him. But if he's an ass, throw him back."  
  
"Oh come on, you know I'm picky."  
  
Nick laughed softly, ruffling over Phil's hair again. "Yeah. I know you are. Like I said, tell me how it goes."  
  
"I will."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should apologize for the title of this story. I was trying to make a "netflix and chill" joke and it didn't pan out really. Sorry.

Shield Studio had once been called Prying Eyes Studio, before Phil had managed to buy the entire thing and rebrand it. Prying Eyes, he told everyone, was just hostile and was suggestive of peeping toms. Shields were for protection, and they were going body positive, sex positive and safer sex.  
  
The change in name came with a change in location. Everyone was surprisingly alright with the move, and Phil made the call to leave LA and move into a property he'd picked up a bit north of San Francisco. It hadn't been a film studio at any point; it had been a smallish resort hotel and spa that had bankrupted. It still wasn't cheap, but getting out from the city sprawl and more into the suburbs helped, and they had a little bit of property to help isolate them from neighbors. The building was renovated, so now instead of guest rooms there were multiple studios in different decor. Some were just set up like open plan apartments.  
  
Because Shield was a porn studio, but Phil had done a lot of research and had his massive career backing him. He'd been damn near a household name for a while mostly because he didn't seem sleazy at all. He came across as a normal, friendly, if a bit dorky guy who genuinely wanted everyone to have a good time in his films.  
  
He was credited with helping a whole generation of bi men feel secure with themselves but he wasn't sure how actually true that was. He'd been thanked by fans a few times, that was enough for him.  
  
Happily the bay area didn't seem to actually care if a porn studio was there. Their property was neat and he made sure they had a positive reputation. He worked to make sure the studio was a generally relaxed and healthy environment for his actors.  
  
All this meant he had a surprising amount of porn actors wanting jobs.  
  
So, Justin Hammer, then.  
  
"You want my opinion on him?" The resort-cum-studio was four walls surrounding a courtyard that had a small saltwater pool. Natasha was sitting on a chaise, Pepper painting her nails because Pepper enjoyed doing so (she said it was like creating small public temporary art).  
  
"Dom sub stuff has had a huge surge in popularity. You're the studio's main dom." Phil replied. He'd taken off his suit jacket, sitting in the sun on the chaise next to her. "Your opinion matters. He could arrive with a gold plated dick blessed by the no longer Virgin Mary and your opinion could veto him."  
  
Natasha quirked a smile, watching Pepper work. Today's pattern was silvery red and looked like crackle glass. "I do so love when I get to see the charm that made you a star, Phil."  
  
He scoffed. "Please. The bottom line is the bottom line."  
  
"Hm. I don't know what he's like not in front of the camera. His role is that of an insufferable dommy businessman but it's supposed to be." She considered. "If that's just a role, he's fine. If that's him for real I'm not sure we can fix him well enough for your standards. What did Steve say?"  
  
"He didn't. You know him; he won't render opinion until he meets him." Phil stood and stretched, looking at his watch. "He's probably here soon. I might show him around."  
  
"We'll try not to scare him. Tony is still pouting by the way." Pepper said, without looking up.  
  
"He hasn't even asked nicely. I don't play with people who think they have the right to annex my dick in the name of getting laid." Phil snorted, picking up his suit jacket and going back inside as his phone chirped. He picked up as he walked. "Yes, Melinda?"  
  
"There's a Justin Hammer waiting in reception for you."  
  
"I'll be right there." He was just down the hall, really, but it's a long hall and he'd foregone the cane today in favor of a brace for his bad knee, so he walked into reception at a casual stroll. Reception deliberately had nothing adult or suggestive on display, just the studio logo on the wall and nice if maddeningly generic business furniture that was creamy leather because Phil would sooner slit his own throat with his shaving razor than let black leather furniture into the building besides desk chairs.  
  
May was behind the desk and looked to him as he came in. The only other resident of the lobby stood and walked over, offering a hand. "Mr. Coulson, it's a pleasure."  
  
Phil took his hand and shook it, looking him up and down as he did. Slender with some muscle, tan three piece suit, blondish hair Phil suspected was lightened. "Mr. Hammer. Welcome to Shield Studios. I have to admit I was surprised to get your resume."  
  
Justin shrugged, just a bit. "It isn't that interesting of a story."  
  
"I'll be the judge of that. I thought we'd talk in my office and if that goes well, we'd keep talking while I show you around."  
  
"Sounds good. I honestly wasn't sure if you were hiring."  
  
"Yes and no." Phil led him back into the building. "I don't have a huge staff and I can always make room for talent. That said, why do you want to work for me?"  
  
Justin frowned, considering his words. "I want to like my job again."  
  
Phil blinked. "Why not retire?"  
  
"Porn isn't a career path you leave with aims of returning to corporate America." He was sour. "Once you're a porn star, you're a porn star. The thing is I used to love this gig! I really did. Yeah some parts of it are really unsexy..."  
  
"I get you."  
  
"You've been there."  
  
"I've been everywhere." Phil looked at him as he opened his office door. "You want the magic back."  
  
"Yeah. I guess. It all became so... well, grey, ironically. Just flat and the same. It was hard to engage, the last few I did I swear I was on autopilot. I did them to finish the contract." He sat down heavily across from Phil. "So here I am."  
  
"I'm not a therapist, you know. I offer you no promises."  
  
"I'm not looking for anything but a chance. I don't even really want to do bondage crap for now. I'm burned out on it." He waved a hand a bit. "Though that's what my fandom expects so I get it if you want me to."  
  
"If you aren't enthusiastically consenting I don't have any interest in you doing it." He frowned. "I won't lie; I've had people come here just desperate for any sort of paycheck, and people coming in who think one amateur thing on the internet means they can go pro, and on and on. You're the first person to make porn sound like drudgework."  
  
Justin laughed in a self-deprecating way. "Yeah. Guess it is kind of fucked up. Maybe I should just retire. Go home, cuddle my cats and go to therapy."  
  
He considered, looking at Justin, who was looking away to look at the photos and articles framed on the walls. He looked soft edged and warm and a little tired. "I say take a few weeks off from in front of the camera, see that therapist, and hang out here a bit."  
  
"What?" Justin looked back at him.  
  
"You need a break. Take one. But you're welcome here. Once you feel like your skin's your own again we'll talk."  
  
"... So. Rain check?" Justin stood and offered his hand.  
  
Phil stood and shook it. "Rain check. Come on, I'll show you around and introduce you to my drama queens."  
  
"For the record, your film _Kept_? Fucking beautiful, seriously. One of the best adult films I've seen and really made me think about what kind of relationship I wanted in my life."  
  
Phil's eyebrows. "Wow, that's from fifteen years ago or more."  
  
"Well yeah, but come on, the chemistry between the three of you was amazing."  
  
"We lived together for three years afterwards. Nick still works here, we're still close." He said easily as they walked out of his office. "He and I did the script writing for it. We had to fight to get it made for a lot of reasons. The interracial thing is part of it; you know how that's still fucked up in some of the industry."  
  
"Yeah, it is fucked but there are a few studios bucking that including you guys."  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way. I am very glad you enjoyed it. People have told me before it opened their eyes to polyamory and threesome relationships a bit."  
  
"Did for me. Hard ideal to have though."  
  
"I know." He paused, looking outside at the courtyard and smiling. "Come on."


	3. Chapter 3

There was something hyperreal about Thor. It always caught Phil a bit when he saw the larger man out in the courtyard, wet from the pool and laughing at something Natasha had said. Phil was long used to being around, fucking and being fucked by beautiful people but Thor took that shit to an advanced level.  
  
He was golden tanned, bearded and long haired, and muscular, a polished woodsman of a man, a figure somehow defiantly living up to his own ridiculously new age name and the perfect counter to pale lean Loki, who was currently not in evidence. Loki burned like a lobster, and hated having freckles. They'd almost accidently wandered into porn, through Darcy, mostly because when Darcy wanted to see someone naked she tried to recruit them and in this case it had worked out fantastically.  
  
Both were people Phil would have loved to play with when he was younger. He satisfied himself with enjoying their work with the studio.  
  
"Phil." Thor smiled happily. "And without a cane today I see."  
  
"It's a good day. This is Justin Hammer; he might be joining us after he takes a bit of a break."  
  
Thor's attention shifted to a bemused Justin. "Your reputation precedes you Mr. Hammer, it's a pleasure." He offered a hand out and shook enthusiastically.  
  
"Well it might be in the future." Justin managed. "I honestly thought they were just casting you against short actors."  
  
Thor burst into laughter. "My brother is on set right now but he is even taller than I am."  
  
Phil patted Justin's shoulder. "They're gentle giants. Well, Thor is, Loki is very feline and has the mood changes to match."  
  
"As good a description of my brother as there ever has been." Thor said genially.  
  
The doors opened again and Rogue came out, beaming at them all, in workout gear. "Hey y'all. Do y'mind?"  
  
"Not at all." Phil waved a hand.  
  
Rogue toed out of her shoes and socks, stripped naked and did a cannonball into the pool.  
  
He looked to Justin to see how he was processing this, and was pleased to see that Justin seemed more curious than anything. "Admittedly we have a few more guys working for us than girls."  
  
"You guys do films with every possible configuration of adults boinking possible." Justin shrugged. "Never really done anything with guys myself."  
  
"Straight people exist. We have some." Phil shrugged ambivalently.  
  
Thor had sat on the edge of the pool to dangle his legs in and Rogue surfaced next to him, folding her arms on the side of the pool.  
  
"... I think I would like to hang out here a little during my break." Justin decided, looking at Phil. "Though it might be a conflict of interest."  
  
"Nah. Hang out in the kitchen and here. Get out of your suits for once."  
  
"That is somewhat rich coming from you." Natasha was droll.  
  
Phil flipped her off with a laugh, and left Justin sitting down on a chaise talking to Natasha and Pepper.  


* * *

  
  
He found Loki in silk pajama pants in the studio's kitchen, feeding Kurt Nutella as they leaned together against the island. Phil recognized the post sex post shower quiet between them so didn't bother asking how their filming went, just went to the coffee machine, poured a mug, and made it two when Nick walked in. Fixing Nick coffee like he preferred is old hat, and earned him a peck to the temple before they stepped out together into the hall.  
  
"So?"  
  
"I recommended he take a break before committing. Rain check and head check. He's not in a position to enthusiastically consent to anything right now." Phil shrugged.  
  
"Hm. Alright. Our web traffic is up by over twenty five percent. That web comic that you offered a six month subscription to in exchange for a review? The review went live today."  
  
Phil nodded. "It'll pay off. She had overwhelmingly positive things to say. A few nitpicks."  
  
"She raised a few good points. We have the rights to a lot of the old stuff. Making them widely available to subscribers isn't a bad idea and would give us a wider online selection if that's even possible." Nick shrugged. "I'll get Skye and Bruce rummaging through the archives. Go eat lunch."  
  
"I can take care of myself."  
  
"If you could you would have already ate lunch." He gave Phil a gentle shove, and he went.  


* * *

  
  
Of course, what Nick didn't know is Phil was purposefully eating lunch late, so the majority of the rush had passed and he could flirt ineptly with the owner of the diner he'd found a few months ago. He generally tried to eat healthy, and without constant sex based cardio, he'd had to do a lot of working out to compensate for the (delicious but fattening) food.  
  
No regrets. None. The diner owner was adorable.  
  
Phil smiled as he walked in, gladly inhaling the potent scents of the place. Grilling meat, baking pie, and coffee black as a singularity. Hawkeye's Diner wasn't a big place, but it was honest and generally populated by cops and EMTs, which was as good a sign as any that the food was worth it.  
  
"Hey, Phil, I was wondering if you were coming today." Clint appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, hands leaning on the doorframe.  
  
Also, coming to the diner meant a free ticket to the gun show. No one's ever accused Phil of not being a dirty old man.  
  
"Hey, Clint. I had to interview a potential employee." Phil sat at the counter and accepted the iced tea Clint had just poured. "Thank you. How's your day going?"  
  
"Pretty damn good actually. New kid's working out. Kate finally googled you."  
  
"Amused, impressed, or disgusted?"  
  
"Oh please." Clint snorted. "What do you want today?"  
  
He quirked an eyebrow. "What do you got?"  
  
"You like some heat? Because I've been messing with a cheese and pepper stuffed burger, think I finally got it right."  
  
"I'll try anything once."  
  
"Oohh, dangerous." Clint grinned and headed back to the kitchen, adjusting a purple hearing aid as he went.  
  
Phil watched him go with no small amount of pleasure because, damn, and drank his tea.  
  
It was one of the ongoing issues of his life. Honestly he was probably lucky he'd been a porn star because he had never been good at the game. Not that being a porn star had helped at all, if anything it had made it worse. He was inept at flirting and the whole getting to know someone thing in general, being far too used to being able to bottom line sex and intimacy in general. His body had been a commodity, one gladly and with pleasure bartered, to the point he had a tattoo on his pec over his heart that proudly declared 'sex sells, and I am a broker.'  
  
So the idea of true intimacy was less physical for him now, and more cerebral. He and Nick were still close because they knew each other. Nick knew he loved comic books, science fiction, art museums, and swing music. Nick knew he loved caramel but not toffee, liked French vanilla but not regular. Nick knew Phil had gone to a comic convention as Darth Maul.  
  
To be fair he'd done some of this to himself, by retiring from performing and making the maybe misguided decision not to dip his pen in the company ink, but he still hasn't figured out non-industry relationships... and he's not just going to reach over and grab Clint's ass, he's not that rude or presumptuous.  
  
Because honestly, who wants to date a porn star? Even a retired aging well off one? He'd found out the hard way that generally, those that did want to date him were not people he should date. He'd actually had a few very good long term relationships in his life, all remembered very fondly, and he's been lucky most of the splits were amicable. Enough to get Christmas cards. The short term relationships weren't worth remembering.   
  
The problem with people wanting to date, ahem, Phil'er Up Coulson (he's so glad he left that screen name behind years ago) wanted the porn star fantasy, so they wanted him on his A-game every fucking time. God forbid he wants his off screen sex more relaxed sometimes. He's made sure that the stuff his studio puts out has room for lazy intimacy sometimes just because of that.  
  
And as much as he feels judged, sometimes it seems like people are worried he'll judge them, like he has a PHD in fucking somehow and they're afraid he'll laugh at their GED in fucking.  
  
_Whatever._  
  
It's a tired, overused argument with himself and he shook it away in favor of sipping his tea, looking at the kitchen window when he heard a rhythmic banging noise. Apparently Kate had got Clint's attention by banging on the kitchen work table where he was stuffing a burger patty, and was now signing at him.  
  
"I have my hearing aids in." Clint told her. "Jesus, Kate, my hands are covered in raw meat do you want me practicing sign language right now?!"  
  
It probably says how smitten Phil is that he is sort of charmed by that.  
  
"Hey man. You look familiar." A younger man in an EMT shirt was down the counter, on what appeared to be his third pie slice.  
  
Phil smiled. "I get that a lot."


	4. Chapter 4

"There you are. Having an illicit affair?" Darcy teased from where she was over Thor's shoulder.  
  
Phil was used to it. Thor had a tendency to caveman carry people he liked, and he liked 'his' girls, Darcy and Jane. He had screen time with a lot of people but Darcy and Jane were as close to primaries as he had. Thor just beamed at him. "Yes. With diner food."  
  
"Omigod did you go to Hawkeye's again? Isn't the owner a cutie?" Darcy said, grinning once Thor had turned enough for her to see him properly.  
  
"Yes he is actually." Phil agreed because why deny it.  
  
"You could bounce quarters off that ass."  
  
"Darcy." Thor swatted her rear, making her squeal. "It is not scheduled, but we were thinking of taking the modern suite."  
  
Phil waved a hand. "That's why I pay the crew to be on standby. By all means go be spontaneous."  
  
"Thank you sir! Come, Darcy, let's go find Jane." And Thor strolled down the hallway.  
  
"You should totally join us Phil!" Darcy called, and trailed into laughter as Thor pinched her ass, turning a corner and out of sight.  
  
"If you turn that foursome down I will have you declared dead and post an obituary on the internet." Nick walked over, staring down at him.  
  
He sighed, leaning into Nick's arm when it slid around him. "I retired, and I'm trying not to fuck the staff, man. I pay them; I don't want anyone thinking they have to fuck me as part of the gig."  
  
"You're being responsible and even sweet, but I'm sure no one thinks that. You're just torturing yourself." Nick replied softly.  
  
He considered. "Look, I have a horrible teenage crush on a non-porn guy and he knows I'm retired, which he might even be cool with, but there's a lot of difference between a retired porn star and a performing porn star."  
  
Nick looked surprised then laughed. "You poor sad bastard."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You know you'd be into Thor fucking you up a wall."  
  
He groaned. "Oh my god do not remind me. I want to claw that back so bad I don't have words."  
  
Nick laughed, ruffled Phil's thinning hair, and left him stewing in sexual frustration in the hallway. Then his knee gave a painful twinge and he hissed, stumbling and leaning a shoulder on the wall, taking his weight off that leg. After a few minutes of careful breathing he turned and walked out, getting his keys back out.  
  
Twenty minutes later he walked back into the diner and Kate was on the counter, giving him a curious look. "Come back for pie?"  
  
"Can I talk to Clint?"  
  
As soon as he said the name Clint's head poked up in the window, then he came out drying his hands. "What's up?"  
  
"I am going to lead this conversation by saying I have no idea what I'm doing. That said, I have been drooling over your various attributes for weeks. Please let me take you to dinner before I implode."   
  
Kate clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles and slipped off into the kitchen. Clint was wide eyed and blushing before clearing his throat, shifting to stand in front of Phil, leaning on his forearms on the counter. "Seriously?"  
  
"Seriously. You're absolutely adorable. I want to get to know you better. Beware, I don't know how to flirt."  
  
"Used to being able to skip to sex because of your career." Clint said after a beat.  
  
"Right but don't feel pressured. Both the inside of your head and the inside of your pants interest me."  
  
He cackled and ducked his head before looking back up, tongue darting out to wet his lips, Phil following the motion. "Yeah you are really bad at this. Okay. I would love to go to dinner with you."  
  
Phil reached over and caught one of his hands. "Awesome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, I need opinions. Do you guys want porn scenes with the various characters of the SHIELD studio?


	5. Author's note!

I intended this to be a rapid update format like Subvert and Encore, but unfortunately I don't think that's going to pan out.

Encore and Subvert, as well as most of the Dynamic Factors series and indeed this story so far, were written on my phone during dead periods at work. They're currently being very anal about phone use at our work stations and I'm not really in a position where I can push that.

I'll update when I can but it is going to be slower, I'm sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve’s power, Phil knew, was not to be doubted.

With his lean frame and fine boned face, a lot of people wrongly assumed that Steve’s role in porn was to be pushed around and generally fucked into oblivion. Yeah, the latter happened, but if it was he was probably holding onto someone’s hair and barking orders about just how he wanted it given to him. Steve was toppy and completely comfortable with it, and bucked the laundry list of health problems life had dealt him by eating carefully and working out as much as his body let him. He swam a lot, lifted weights, did yoga.

All this basically meant that while Brock was being a bitch during the bondage gear photoshoot, Steve walked out in slacks and an undershirt, suspenders dangling from his pants and glared up at him before reaching up, grabbing his hair and taking Brock down to his knees. All of which was beautifully caught on camera, video and stills.

“You have to admire how gracefully he handles all the studios’ bundles of neurosis.” Natasha said thoughtfully.

“Hey.” Bucky was sitting against the floor and gave her a dirty look, which was somewhat undermined by the fuck-me pants and the leather sleeve covering his prosthetic arm that was held on by buckled straps crossing just-so around his chest and back.

“Present company not excluded, beautiful.”

He snorted. “The sooner he realizes he doesn’t have to fight it every single time the happier he’ll be.”

“I’m pretty sure he gets off on the denial then being pushed aspect of it, so probably not.” Phil had his arms crossed, leaning on the wall.

“You’re the one that hired him.” Natasha glanced at him, sitting on a metal chair with her knees crossed, ballet boots laced up to just below the knee over thigh highs that had little adorable devil horns and tails. The thigh highs were her choice and Phil was more charmed than he really should have been.

“I guess I like trouble. Or basket cases. Both perhaps, depending on the relative manageability. Either way plenty of people are into Brock’s ‘fight me then fuck me’ thing so I have no argument.” He shrugged. Meanwhile on the white infinity wall set, Steve was now part of the fetish photoshoot whether he liked it or not, and his dressed-down old-timey businesswear versus Brock’s leather was a kink unto itself.

“You’re mellow, did you finally tell the cutey at Hawkeye’s that you want to grab his butt?”

He snorted. “I didn’t put it quite like that.”

“So you told him you wanted to grab nonspecific anatomy?”

“Good lord, Tasha.”

“You did. Is he going to let you grab some nonspecific anatomy?”

Phil gave her his why-did-I-hire-you stare. She quirked an eyebrow while giving him a you-wish-you-could-last-without-me stare back. “Maybe eventually. We’re going to dinner first, like real, actual adult human beings that don’t fuck things and/or people to pay utility bills.”

Bucky snickered. “Since when do you know shame, boss?”

“There’s a difference between shame, and knowing what I do is not standard society normal. It’s the latter, there’s not a lot I’m ashamed of and you all know this. You know, these were supposed to be photos for our online store." Phil said mildly. Steve still had total control over Brock, one hand still digging into his hair the other tapping a crop on his shoulder gently to try to get Brock to sit still for Peter's photography.

  
"It never manages to be just that." Natasha stretched just a bit, the posture collar just emphasising her jaw line neck and collarbones.  
  
"True."  
  
"Fucking tease." Brock complained, cutting off to an approving noise when that earns him a single flick to the shoulder with the crop.  
  
"You'll hurt when I want you to, not before." Steve replied. "And fidgety impatient subs go entirely without."  
  
"He means it!" Bucky called, not an ounce threatened by Steve's manhandling of Brock.  
  
"That man needs a keeper." Natasha murmured.  
  
"Don't look at me. Outside of performances I am hopelessly vanilla." Phil replied.  
  
"You fuckin' lie." Bucky gave him a narrow-eyed stare.  
  
"Not a bit. My toy cabinet has many delights within but nothing for pain dealing. Hardest thing I personally own are leather cuffs and a silk blindfold."  
  
"He's a powderpuff." Natasha smiled. "That said I'm not sure someone who lived in a three way relationship for multiple years gets to claim to be vanilla."  
  
"More of a French vanilla." Nick suggested, having meandered into the room carrying a tablet.  
  
Phil was startled into laughter. "See? That's actually clever. I like that and I'm stealing it for my own purposes."  
  
"It's only theft if I wasn't intending to share." Nick half smiled as he passed the tablet to Phil.  
  
"You are good at sharing." He accepted the tablet, looking at the email that was pulled up. "Oh, god dammit, really?"  
  
"Really. I'm already investigating what we need to do about the mold."  
  
"They aren't cheap. It's less than a year old though." He glared at the tablet.  
  
"I already emailed the company that cast and machined it. They did get some shitty alloy in at some point, if our mold was related to it they'll redo it for labor only."  
  
"Good. That puts us how far backordered?"  
  
"Not as bad as you'd figure. Do you want to offer coupons or something?"  
  
He sighed and passed the tablet back. "Let's offer them our next model up for the same price, or a free month of porn if they want to wait."  
  
"Reasonable. Consider it done."  
  
"Mr. Coulson, you're going to get in on a few of these photos right?" Peter looked to him. Like so many that go into porn he'd come to California for a legit career and ended up in the adult industry. He still freelanced though so for Shield's work his alias was Spider. He was, in Phil's opinion, very good at fetish photography, and Phil tried to pay him well for it.  
  
"I'm retired."  
  
"You aren't getting naked and suits are very popular in the scene these days." Natasha stood, balancing easily on her boots. "Come on."  
  
"Fine, but they would rather see all of you beautiful creatures than my balding aging self." He let her badger him in front of the camera.  
  
It's really not fetish modeling. It's supposed to be for the new boots, corset and posture collars, and the other gear that's joining the store. But it's like riding a bicycle and it's easy to become one of the props of the shoot, his grey suit and red shirt stark on the white infinity wall but letting the black and white leather and pvc the others wore show easily.  
  
Eventually he bowed out because his knee was protesting. His phone rang as he walked to his office and he had to smile when Clint's name came up. "Hey."  
  
"Why do you sound so good on the phone?" Clint wanted to know. "Are you having a good day?"  
  
"Pretty decent, actually. Are we still on for tomorrow?"  
  
"We are! How should I dress?"  
  
"Casual's fine. Do you like Thai?"

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long delay everyone. I had massive computer problems, to wit, my previous laptop had complete harddisk failure. I managed to save all my data, happily, and now I have a new laptop and finally got Office installed to it.

"So how did you get into cooking?"  
  
Phil's favorite Thai restaurant wasn't large, but it had been around a while and the food on offer was amazing. He was something of a regular and the staff all knew him by name, the younger people waiting the tables managing not to giggle about it anymore.  
  
He was in jeans loose enough to fit his knee brace under them, and a blue polo shirt. Clint was in jeans and a purple t-shirt, staring at the menu like he was decoding secrets.  
  
"Uh, well. The circus actually." Clint looked up, seeming sheepish about it.  
  
Phil's eyebrows lifted. "I'm allowed to find that interesting and be curious right?"  
  
"Yeah, you can. My brother and I ran away from foster care and joined the circus." He was staring at the menu again.  
  
"Want to talk about it after we order?" His suggestion got a glad smile and they lapsed into talking about the menu. Phil got a mild soup he was fond of, and pad Thai because he's a horrible American. Clint got a platter that gave him three smaller portions of things he was interested in.  
  
"It's not a fun story honestly, how we got into foster care anyway. The circus? That went okay. It's where Hawkeye's comes from, I'm an archer, did trick shots."  
  
Phil lifted his eyebrows. "You are a man of many talents."  
  
"Hah. And you're a talent of many men?"  
  
He snorted. "Okay that was totally horrible but somehow accurate. Don't feel like you have to get into any subject you don't want to alright? I know it’s weird how wide open my life is. I don't expect the same back."  
  
"Thanks, for that. I did read your Wikipedia page."  
  
"It's accurate. I added some sources to it." He sipped his drink. "Are you willing to talk about the circus leading to cooking though?"  
  
"Hah, yeah. That's fine. There were a lot of mouths to feed and we never exactly had a stable kitchen, so we had to improvise a lot, but still make food people would like, and a lot of it. Nothing fancy but a lot of the recipes I use at the diner are circus recipes. Like the pancakes and the chili." He paused, because Phil had his chin propped on his hand, looking at him intently. "... am I boring already?"  
  
"Just the opposite." Phil assured him. "You're more interesting than I am."  
  
"Oh please. You're sort of famous."  
  
"Psh, b list famous. I mean a famous porn star is still a porn star." He shrugged widely. "A retired porn star? Ehh. I did okay, I still am."  
  
Clint lifted an eyebrow. "From what I know you did very well."  
  
Phil almost wanted to protest the double (triple?) entendre but his phone chimed and he huffed. "I am not answering that. If it's an emergency, they'll call." Seeing Clint lift an eyebrow he sighed. "You're my priority right now."  
  
Clint's blush was worth the statement.

* * *

  
  
"Why are we filming this?" Justin wanted to know.  
  
"Oddly I think you actually know." Natasha replied.  
  
She was seated at the counter of Shield's large communal kitchen. There were in fact three cameras running, because Justin had command of the room. He was in designer jeans and a blue button down with the sleeves cuffed up, moving easy and familiar, and had conscripted Brock and Tony into helping him.  
  
His recruiting of Brock had been what had sent Skye running to get cameras and someone to run them because Justin had just been in the kitchen talking to Natasha about baking when Brock had stepped in, in wet swim trunks and nothing else. Justin had narrowed his eyes at Brock and Brock had postured and was about to make it a problem when Justin had coolly informed him that "you will wear a shirt in the kitchen if I am cooking."  
  
Natasha had been half expecting Brock to be an asshole if not start a fight, but Brock had stared before leaving, and returning in dry jeans and a t-shirt. Oh the shirt was old and painted on, but it was a shirt. And now he was kneading wheat dough on a clean floured countertop, and kept giving her a look that likely meant 'how did this happen?'  
  
Then Tony had come in like a wrecking ball, and now Justin had two of Shield's basket cases in his sway, being sous chefs. And Justin was talking to the cameras and everyone else in the room about the fact that seriously fresh bread was so easy, it just takes some patience.  
  
None of which was technically porn but Shield had posted stranger things than an impromptu cooking lesson by a Dom, who was their newest hire, and whom also was gentling Brock and Tony with surprisingly few words (and both of which looked like they were trying hard not to be too curious about the new guy).  
  
"You can buy pastries you know. Even braided ones. And bread, bread's pretty cheap." Tony stirred a gently simmering pan full of caramelizing cinnamon apples and considered the idea of a stirring robot.  
  
"And those will likely be full of crap." Justin replied tartly, working pastry dough next to Brock while studying his progress.  
  
"Like carbs?" Brock suggested, and got swatted with a clean spatula in admonishment. "Tease. I am surrounded by teases."  
  
"There can be good carbs and fresh bread makes all the difference. And I am the farthest thing from a tease."  
  
"Grant will beat the shit out of you." Tony said cheerfully.  
  
"Then he won't follow through. If tits aren't involved he's not interested." Brock huffed.  
  
"Boys." Natasha quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"I tell no lies."   
  
"He'd go gay for Phil." Tony stirred a pan of blueberries.  
  
"Everyone would go gay for Phil. Should anyway, I mean, come on."  
  
"I'm telling Phil you two said that." Natasha was amused, further so when both went into 'come at me bro' poses.  
  
Justin rolled his eyes, wrapping the pastry dough in plastic and putting it in the fridge. "Okay, let's get that into even portions and get it braided."  
  
"Yes sir." Brock replied automatically. Tony nudged him, and Brock about checked him across the kitchen in response.

* * *

  
  
"Can I ask about the cane?"  
  
Thai dinner lay demolished between them, and discussions about dessert hadn't really led anywhere. Clint was considering taking them back to Hawkeye's and making something but he wasn't sure if that was first date proper or not no matter how good his fruit crepes were a la mode.  
  
"You can. Wiki covered it pretty well though. T-boned when someone ran a red light, mangled up my leg pretty good." Phil set a hand on his knee. "It's less a question of the joint working as intended and more one of pain. When it hurts it's nice to get some weight off it, and the cane is just enough for that and a bit of stabilization, that's all. Makes me look like the old man I am though."  
  
"Oh, please. You aren't that old." Clint smiled at him.  
  
"You flatter but I'm about to turn fifty." Phil pushed back from the table, getting his wallet out. "Come on. I'll get this, you can get us ice cream or something."  
  
"... my fruit crepes are pretty amazing. If you want to come back to my restaurant and cook with me." He offered, tenuous but fuck it anyway.  
  
"That seems like an amazing way to get to know each other. Sure. Let's go."


	8. Chapter 8

"I have seen some of your work."

  
  
"Well, you don't have to sound so shy about it. Most adults who have watched porn in their lives have probably seen something I was in." Phil pointed out mildly, sipping diner coffee. "Would it be too far to ask what your favorite was?"

  
  
Clint had to take a moment to wrap his brain around the fact that this was awkward for him but not for Phil, and probably shouldn't be awkward for him anyway. Maybe. "Uh, _Not Exactly Heroes_."

  
  
"Now that one? I am proud of." He watched Clint mix crepe batter, at ease in his kitchen.

  
  
"Didn't you get an award of some kind?"

  
  
"Yep. Cannes Film Festival. I got the Prix Un Certain Regard and almost got Prix du Jury as well."

  
  
"Well you deserved it."

  
  
"Thanks. Do you know how hard it was to get actors to take it seriously? We had to have an actual full cast and crew, actual sets. I had to hire movie martial arts trainers for porn stars. I mean it’s one thing to make a porn parody of Superman. It's another thing to make indie superheroes that fuck each other and sometimes their villains and actually sell it. Cannes saved me from bankrupting over it." Phil admitted.

  
  
"I just liked how rough and tumble the heroes were." He ladled the batter out onto a hot griddle. "I love that they were all kicked to shit and lived in hole in the wall apartments. They were alive." He paused and looked at Phil. "And now you're blushing. You mention that most of the adult population has seen your ass like you're talking about the weather and now you're blushing."

  
  
"Shut up." Phil pouted, shoving Clint's shoulder very lightly. "I wrote it, man. The whole thing. Well, probably twenty percent of the dialogue was improvised because yeah, porn talk but... yeah. I directed it too, and had a minor part in it."

  
  
"So I'm complimenting something you actually enjoy compliments on." Clint parsed, picking up a spatula. "I get it. Like when someone compliments my pie, not my ass."

  
  
"I like your pie and your ass."

  
  
"I like you Phil but you need to just not flirt. You're that bad at it." He said around a laugh.

  
  
"But you're smiling!"

  
  
"I will hit you with this spatula."

 

"Your mistake for thinking that might dissuade me." Phil smirked, and dodged the spatula with a laugh. “Thank you for tolerating my horrible flirting though.”

 

“It’s funny, and I understand why you aren’t exactly smooth.”

 

 “This shit’s hard when you’re not running on a script and don’t rehearse lines beforehand.” He pouted.

 

“Awww, poor baby.” Clint shifted the crepes to plates, spreading sweet cream and berries before rolling them neatly. “Just that simple. Want them a la mode?”

 

 “Of course I do. You didn’t have to cook for me you know, we could have called it a night or gotten ice cream.”

 

 He paused, looking at Phil. “Where’s the fun in that?”

 

 He had to laugh softly and was heartily enjoying his second bite of crepe, standing in Clint’s warmly lit diner kitchen when he heard the jingle of the front door. He looked at Clint curiously, who looked puzzled then resigned.

 

 "Hello?”

 

“Yeah hi.” Clint looked through the serving window at two cops and some EMTs. “Sorry about that, I’m not open tonight. I never am, this is the day I shut down early.”

 

“Yeah, we know, which is why we thought it was weird that there were lights on then we found the front door open.” One of the cops replied, walking to lean on the counter.

 

He winced. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just me and a friend.”

 

Phil moved to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, waving with his fork. “Hi. I’m Phil.”

 

“Yeah, I know who you are actually, you own the porn studio.”

 

“I do indeed.”

 

“So no luck on food then?” One of the EMTs asked.

 

Clint sighed, looking around at his almost entirely clean kitchen then at the fact that he still had a hot cooking surface, barely cooled down. “I can cook you breakfast if that’ll satisfy you.”

 

“Really?” The EMTs and cops lit up.

 

“Am I your waiter?” Phil asked. Clint gave him a thankful look, and Phil ate the rest of the ice cream in a few bites, figuring the rest would keep as he moved to wash his hands before putting the coffee pot on.

 

The word spread, because of course it did, and half an hour later the diner counter was full, so Clint and Phil wouldn’t have to wipe the booths and tables down as well, all the patrons either cops, EMTs or firemen. Phil had gotten a very quick rundown on fresh hash browns and had helped prep potatoes and onions, beat eggs for those who wanted scrambled, carried plates and filled coffee mugs. With his knee rapidly tiring he wasn’t moving particularly fast but no one in the diner seemed to care.

 

It wasn’t what Phil was expecting to do with his late evening but honestly, it was nice in a strange way. He got to be in the kitchen and see Clint in the thick of it, cooking stacks of pancakes and bacon. Clint for his part seemed just amused and resigned, hitting the bell when he put up loaded platters for Phil to take to the hungry public servants.

 

Eventually everyone was fed and two of the cops hung back, wiping the counter, mopping the floor and helping with dishes. Clint scraped and cleaned the grill, and looked around with weary approval as Phil finished his cold but still delicious crepes.

 

“You don’t have an early morning do you?”

 

“Nah. Pietro’s got opening and I’ve left him prepped, and while he’s not a creative cook he’s fast and on target, plus Wanda and Kate will be here too.”

 

Phil rinsed his plate and put it in the dish rack. “You probably don’t believe it, but I’ve had a great night. Walk me to my car?”

 

Of course Clint did, because he could at least attempt to be a gentleman and Phil was limping. And walking Phil to his car earned him a goodnight kiss that, while it didn’t make his toes curl, did make him look forward to more of them.


	9. Chapter 9

“Well, aren’t you cheerful.” Nick lifted an eyebrow at Phil, who smiled at him. “And tired looking, damn, you get laid?”

 

“Nah, had a pretty good first date and kiss though.” Tired or not, he’s all smiles and leaned into the attention when Nick ruffled a hand over his hair. “He accepts that I’m not smooth, that’s nice.”

 

“You’ve never been smooth. No one watched you because you were smooth, they watched you because you were enthusiastic and seemed like a real human being not a porn clone.”

 

“Porn clone. Plone? Clorn.” Phil mused out loud.

 

“Oh god.”

 

“Killer Clorns from Outer Space.”

 

“Please go home and go back to bed. At least block a room off and sleep. I swear if I have to deal with your goofy ass all day and you email me a dozen goofy ass script ideas…”

 

“Hey, most of us are into his goofy ass script ideas, do you have any idea how many of our fans like it when the actors laugh?” Skye wanted to know, coming in and pouring herself coffee.

 

“How’s your pet puppy?”

 

“Ward? Playing pokemon under my desk.” She rolled her eyes. “I use his lap as a footrest, he doesn’t actually seem to mind.”

 

“Of course he doesn’t, he wants to worship you like a goddess.” Phil gave her a look.

 

“Wow, you’re unfiltered today.”

 

“Did you not hear the Killer Clorns line?” Nick wanted to know.

 

“Clorns?” Skype blinked.

 

“Porn clone. Plone or clorn?” Phil wanted to know.

 

Skye blinked, face going through a few expressions before she shook her head and took several drinks of her coffee. “Porn clone.”

 

“You know, Porn Barbie and Ken syndrome.” Nick said. “Sculpted manscaped men who have a baffling propensity to wear nothing but brand new sneakers and women with proportions about like,” he gestured with his hands and Phil about choked laughing. “Long hair and terrible eye makeup.”

 

“Ah, so like, the antithesis of this place.” Skye stated.

 

“Well, we have some of it but it’s a nice contrast to the rest of the porny Crayola box. Gen Y and Millenials like seeing a range of body types thank everything.” Phil snorted.

 

“Which is exactly why you could come out of retirement.”

 

“I’ll come out of retirement when you do, Nick.”

 

“On a more serious note, if either of you can handle serious notes this morning, our twitter is being slammed by people asking if we have any opinion on that one porn actor being accused of rape and breaking safe words and all sorts of skeevy shit. I run that account, what should I say?” Skye wanted to know.

 

“That we respect enthusiastic consent.” Phil replied.

 

“On the note of enthusiastic consent, while you were at dinner with Hawkeye McBiceps, Justin Hammer held impromptu cooking lessons and completely dommed Tony and Brock while he did.” Nick mixed creamer into his coffee and watched Phil consider this.

 

“Did we film that?”

 

“Yes, it was filmed, it’s online. By twitter, it looks like his fans are already starting to follow him over to us and are wanting to know if he’s going to still be doing D/s stuff.”

 

“What the hell, we’ve put weirder stuff on the website. I assume that means he worked out whatever his headspace problems were and he still wants the job or we’ll have people annoyed.”

 

“I resemble that remark.” Bucky walked in. “is there still coffee?”

 

“You resemble what part of the remark?”

 

“The entire remark. Android porn, headspace problems, annoying people.” Bucky paused. “I guess the wanting the job thing doesn’t apply to me.”

 

Phil facepalmed. “Is there anything else I need to know that’s happening today?”

 

“Jane said she might bring a science friend by. No I don’t know why. Like, actual science not ‘science.’” Skye fingerhooked on the last science.

 

“I assume someone will let me know if I need to care about that. Hey Bucky, clone porn, clorn, or plone?”

 

Bucky pursed his lips for a moment. “I like plone.”

 

“I’m putting a survey on our website.” Skye took Phil’s coffee. “Please just go back to bed.”

 

Phil snorted and gave up, retreating to his office and the couch therein.

* * *

 

It turned out, Jane’s science friend was named Bruce Banner and Tony Stark fell immediately, daffy in love with him.

 

Phil walked into the kitchen, which was really the closest thing the studio had to a common area that was probably nudity free, and found the two of them talking very rapidly while not speaking a word Phil understood. Or rather Tony was talking rapidly and Bruce was putting words in as necessary. Phil looked back and forth between him and nearly felt his eyes cross before shaking off and going to see what was in a container on the counter. Pastries, apparently.

 

“Justin made those. I helped.” Tony said in a rapidfire aside.

 

“One of you has the number for poison control right?” Bruce laughed very softly. Tony stuck his nose in the air then looked back to Bruce. “He gives me the same look when I tell him I won’t fuck him.”

 

“PHIL! Holy shit this is not a porno friend!” Tony gaped at him while Bruce sputtered.

 

“No no, we’re uh in a porn studio and this, I mean you own the place right?” Bruce looked at Phil.

 

“Yeah. Retired from the camera, now I just write silly reasons for people to screw and write paychecks.” Phil said once he’d swallowed some kind of apple flakey goodness. “Sorry, but seriously, that’s a look Tony reserves for people he likes and particle accelerators, I assume.”

 

“Hey, particle accelerators are sexy.” Tony pouted.

 

“On this we agree. Sexy in an expensive way.” Bruce said after a beat. “I guess? Maybe? I don’t generally call inanimate objects sexy.”

 

“You don’t generally talk to people who own reactors. By the way, Phil, totally voted for Plone.”

 

“I swear that made sense before I took a nap.” Phil shook his head and left the kitchen, taking his pastry with him. The studio did have a gym area and he stuck his head in, smiling when he found Brock there doing pushups. “I hear you got along good with Justin Hammer.”

 

Brock snorted and pushed himself up, grabbing his bottle of water. “He’s only ever scened with women, so I don’t know what good that does me.”

 

“Ask nicely. You never know. You do MMA stuff right?”

 

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

 

“I was thinking about writing a short that included some action. You know, fight scenes, special effects, like we’re a legit film company and shit.”

 

Brock snorted. “I’d be interested if you do it. Keep me in mind.”

 

“Right, I’ll let you get back to it.”

 

“Clorns all the way, man.”

 

“God dammit.”


	10. Chapter 10

If Phil had any regrets about his career path it was the death of long scripted porn.

 

The internet certainly made adult entertainment more accessible and America was slowly becoming less prudish, so that was nice. Of course they constantly had to fight SHIELD Studio’s work from getting onto various free video websites, go to war with other websites and with amateurs and somehow still keep the lights on and keep the performers paid enough they wouldn’t wander off and do other people for other paychecks.

 

Somehow it all worked, but gone was the bigger budgets and the two hour adult movies. Oh sometimes they still were a thing but Phil looked back at his career and the long films and yeah, he honestly misses that. He thinks he earned that award dammit. He’s been told he’s actually a very competent writer who understands how people work.

 

He has a whole stack of scripts that others have read, that he wants to make, that he has no ability to pull off right now. And, not wanting them to be ripped off, they sit on various backup medias, just waiting for… he’s not sure what. Waiting for his dignity to die enough to ask Stark, with his billions, to ‘kickstart’ a full length porn sci fi that needs real sets and proper costuming or another superhero flick that needs the same and also some goddamn combat training for most of the cast…

 

So in the meantime, the website, which was mostly members only except for a narrow selection offered for free as preview while the rest sat behind a paywall, had a section for his writing. He maintained a blog on their website and wrote for other places, like VICE, sometimes. He also posted erotic stories, in chapters, whatever currently struck his fancy. Sometimes little short moments in characters’ lives, sometimes long epics. Paid site members got access to his writing, and Skye had set up a secondary site for him where people could drop a few bucks in a ‘patreon’ monthly for access as well, if they just wanted his writing and weren’t so into watching people screw on video.

 

And apparently there were a lot of those people. Steve drew and occasionally did some illustration work for him, mostly scenery because he didn’t want to totally wreck peoples’ headcanons on what characters looked like. He’d shared the patreon money on the occasions that happened and Steve had happily taken it and gotten other studio performers to do model work for him.

 

So for the previous story that had gotten way out of control, even by his admittance, Steve had done an illustration for every chapter, sometimes fast inks, sometimes ink and watercolor, which had led an oddly soft tone over the fact that the story was brutally hard science fiction. Tony had become a priceless reference for some reasonably thought out pseudoscience. It had been intended to be a short story, but the feedback was that he needed to continue it and he’d managed to end it on fifty chapters.

 

Then he’d had to take a break and scrub his brain free of science fiction for a while because he’d been dreaming of fucking aliens for months. Talk about fantasies with no payoff. He was looking into publishing the book, because yeah it’s a goddamn book at this point. He’s had bites. He hasn’t done any follow through because that’d mean editing the fucking thing.

 

And now he’s writing about spies anyway.

 

Blame a lifelong love of James Bond, he supposes. Nick had always told him he was a lover with fantasies of being a fighter, which translated into an affection for superheroes, spies, whatever. Action heroes by any name, for god’s sake some of the films that had started Phil’s porn career had been 80s action movie spoofs.

 

So, Pepper found him on a chaise lounge with a keyboard connected to a tablet, procrastinating on twitter instead of writing about spies.

 

“What are you gleefully giggling about?” She sat down on the chaise next to him and offered a thermos cup full of something pink.

 

He took it and drank it without question and found it to be pineapple strawberry mango something booze. “Bit early for this isn’t it?”

 

“Tony has a broken clock in his lab that has ‘oh look at the time!’ written under it and the arms both point to the word ‘booze’ instead of twelve.” She replied.

 

“My condolences. I shall today be a lush and drink this anyway.” He decided. “That sleep deprivation fueled survey yesterday,”

 

“Plones or Clorns.”

 

“Yes, that. Well, now a bunch of people are asking me if I’m going to be doing clone porn. I’ve had to explain about trying to find that many identical siblings down for porn would be damn near impossible, and as for special effects, my budget isn’t that big. And some chav told me my dick wasn’t that big either.” He looked at her over his glasses. “So I kindly told him that be that as it may, far more people have enjoyed mine than will ever enjoy his.”

 

She snorted. “That’s not even an insult that’s a statement of fact.”

 

“So, what brings you to the poolside delivering me delicious alcohol?”

 

“You know I didn’t initially support Tony’s decision to make his favorite hobby his second career.”

 

“I know. I am very impressed he’s managed to maintain his actual job and be a porn star.” Phil conceded. “A lot of careers, that doesn’t work out.” Justin Hammer had been right, once you’re a porn star, that’s what you are. You can move on and do other things, but ‘retired porn star’ will be by your name the rest of your life. “I know you have a headache with his scheduling now because of it too.”

 

“He’s better now, actually. You gave him an outlet he needed, I think.” She tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “And I’ve gotten some very good friends out of it.”

 

He took a long slurp of his drink, staring at her. “Out with it.”

 

“Fine. I want you to write me something classy with Natasha.”

 

Well, that sent his mind all kinds of ways away from twitter and spies. “As in a script? Because I’m almost entirely sure you can just ask her, she likes you.”

 

“We talked about it. So yes, script, cameras, the works. We had a theme though.”

 

“You had my interest, now you have my attention.”

 

“Period piece, World War Two era. Little bit of under the radar lesbianism.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “That’s wardrobe and set though, I wasn’t sure if we could…”

 

He put up the hand not preoccupied with his booze fruit smoothie. “I know someone actually. A few someone’s. I’ll need to make some phonecalls to see if we can make it actually authentic of course because I imagine that’s what you two would like. Is half hour a good time length for you?”

 

Pepper was a little surprised. “Yes, that’s fine.”

 

“For these ventures I usually go two thirds plot one third porn.” He nodded side to side once. “Just two ladies being roommates during the war, nothing ahem scandalous ahem here. Perhaps a secretary and a Rosie the Riveter?” When she nodded, he did too. “I’ve got some other things I’m doing that are on a schedule, so I’ll need some time to make calls, do some research, write a script that feels appropriate. Have to get that lingo right.”

 

“I’d be willing to invest some into it if there’s costs…”

 

“Well, that depends, is this going on the website? Because if this is going to the consumer, I’d be paying you down the line, if not you’ll need to help with the costs.”

 

“Let me talk to Tony and Natasha.”

 

“Absolutely, make sure everyone’s on the same page and get back to me. Now shoo, I have another eight hundred words in hot British versus American spy I have to deal with.”

 

She laughed and stood, walking away and leaving him to type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah we're this many chapters in and haven't had any porn yet what do. I have this scene in mind where Justin manages to totally undo Brock but really, oddball pairings, is anyone interested in that because it's in my head and won't leave.
> 
> Beyond that, I need to know if you want porn scenes for studio people and if so, who? I get that not everyone likes every pairing but I don't want to write something and have people go OH GOD MY EYES or something.


	11. Chapter 11

Peggy Carter has always been a nice little knife in Phil’s heart.

 

Which isn’t fair to her at all, and he knows that. She’s a wonderful woman who obviously cares very much for her boys. She’s not in the adult industry but also doesn’t seem to judge them at all for doing what they do. She’s also responsible for Steve’s oddly retro wardrobe, and Bucky’s at-odds punk attire, as near as Phil can tell. And both Steve and Bucky seem content to go home to her.

 

Really Phil should be happy his employees have such a good support network and home life but he’s always glad Peggy isn’t around very often, because it always ends up being a nice little bittersweet reminder of what he and Nick had lost, years ago.

 

Still, he’s able to smile and ask a favor when she comes by the day after Pepper talks to him, apparently to bring a change of clothes for Bucky and lunch for them both.

 

“Sometimes I swear they’d forget everything but Steve’s meds.” She told Phil, fond and exasperated, as he walked with her down the hallway to where he was pretty sure Steve and Bucky were.

 

“Sounds about right. Listen, you’re a World War Two buff still right?”

 

She looked surprised. “Yes. I’m something of a scholar on certain aspects of the war. It was my minor in college.”

 

“Well, I have a script I’ve been asked to write and I’d like it to be somewhat authentic. I was wondering if you’d be a reference for the era for me. I’d pay you a consulting fee, if you like.”

 

“It really does depend how much you need me to do. I assume this is for a porn script.”

 

“Yes. Period lesbianism.”

 

That gave her pause. “I know many people who would be interested in that if you can make it feel real. Characters?”

 

“Two redheads, I was thinking about a Rosie the Riveter type and a secretary.”

 

“Hm. How about a switchboard operator and a diner waitress?”

 

“Feeling some inspiration?” He smiled at her. “Sets might be a problem, we can’t use anything here, obviously. I don’t have anything here except for modern apartment sets and so on, which given tends to work for most of what the studio does but this is different.”

 

“I have some friends who did sets for Mad Men. That’s off by a good decade but they might be able to help. Ideally, this would only be one or two locations right?”

 

“Right, a period appropriate apartment for them both, and maybe their workplaces, just a bit.”

 

“Well, I can’t put my professional name on it of course but I’m definitely interested. I’ll help you with period attitudes, makeup and wardrobe, and slang at the very least.”

 

“You’re fantastic, Peggy.”

 

“That’s my line.” Steve deadpanned. The door of the set hung open, this one was a modern office. Bucky was sprawled on the sofa, but he visibly perked up when he saw Peggy in the doorway. “Stealing our girl, Phil?”

 

“Never, just asking if she’d be willing to consult on a script while I showed her where you were.” Phil smiled a bit.

 

“Ah.” Steve smiled and stepped aside to let Peggy in, and nodded his thanks to Phil. Phil nodded back and headed back to his office, pausing when he saw Justin leaning outside the door in jeans and a bowling shirt. “Mr. Hammer. Come to make it official?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve decided I’m good.” Justin smiled a bit at him. “I won’t lie, Brock explaining the kink spreadsheet everyone fills out made me feel a lot better.”

 

“Enthusiastic consent.” He opened his office door. “Come on in and we’ll talk.”

* * *

 

“Hey Phil, you didn’t say you were coming in today.” Clint peered out of the order window.

 

“Yeah, sorry. Wanted to see you and ended up with a tagalong. This is Nick, who has been sternly ordered to not give you a shovel talk.”

 

“I’m just here for pie.” Nick grumbled, already settled at the counter and staring at a menu.

 

“Hah, that’s fine. You know I’m always happy to see you.” Clint beamed at him happily. Kate rolled her eyes and walked over, bringing Phil coffee then Nick the same when he indicated as such.

 

“Shovel talk huh.” Kate said, setting Nick’s coffee down.

 

“This is my best friend since I joined the industry.” Phil nodded at Nick.

 

“This is my dorky white boy.” Nick deadpanned, earning himself a shoulder punch from Phil.

 

“Ah, that kind of friendship.” Kate said wisely. “Your usual Phil?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

“I’ve been told that you guys actually do a good Midnight Train. Which I have to say isn’t often found in Cali.” Nick lifted an eyebrow.

 

“Damn right I do. Light or dark meat?” Clint wanted to know, standing in the doorway to the kitchen and grinning.

 

“Surprise me.”

 

“You got it.”

 

Phil and Nick passed their menus back and Nick dealt with Phil staring into his coffee before huffing and poking him again. “You’re being far too maudlin for being here. You’re here to cheer up, remember?”

 

“Yeah. I know.” He looked up and at Nick. “It’s shitty and stupid but every time Peggy comes by, I end up missing Ororo.”

 

Nick sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “So damn sentimental.”

 

“Yeah, I know, I’m usually over it. Just, you know, sometimes.”

 

“Yeah I know. We got spoiled.”

 

That made Phil snort. “You say that like we aren’t still spoiled.”

 

Nick slapped his back and picked up his coffee. “I sure as hell don’t feel spoiled.”

 

“Oh, lord forbid I don’t let you spend your days on my couch pouting for bonbons.” Phil scoffed.

 

“What is this the fantasy of a 1950s housewife?” Nick asked skeptically. “Bonbons, really?”

 

“That from a man who can be bribed with Ferrero Rocher.”

* * *

 

“So Nick’s not just a best friend, he’s an ex-boyfriend.” Clint stated. He was on Phil’s couch, his feet in Phil’s lap, getting a foot rub which wasn’t quite enough to prevent their conversation. “And you guys have done a bunch of porn together.”

 

“Yeah, that’s accurate. Does that bother you?”

 

“Not really? I mean, you’re not still a thing right?”

 

“Not for a while now. It’s been most of a year since we’ve done anything and we haven’t been an exclusive item in, well, never.” Phil focused on what he was doing. “Goes back to a movie length porn flick called _Kept_. Three-way relationship, me, Nick, and a woman named Ororo. Plot’s a little campy, their in-character careers were lawyer and professor, my character had been a cop before retiring to house husband. Afterwards we all moved in together and stayed together for a few years before Ororo decided to leave porn and go back to college. We were really supportive of course, then she transferred to another college out of state and that was the end of it. Without her Nick and I couldn’t hold it together. We’re all still friends, but…” He looked up, looking at Clint’s face. “That does bother you.”

 

“I just don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to compete with any of that.” Clint muttered, toes curling as Phil’s thumbs pressed into the sole of his foot.

 

“You’re not supposed to compete.” Phil pointed out. “This isn’t a competition at all. I like you, you’re interesting. You’re not them but you’re not supposed to be them.”

 

“… Huh. Okay. I’m sorry I’m kind of insecure about this.”

 

“Don’t be sorry about it. Just realize that I’m being earnest. You can’t disappoint me.”

 

“Oh now that sounds like some kind of horrible challenge.”

 

“Please no.”

 

“Rub fish all over myself and lay there like a board.”

 

He burst into laughter, letting go of Clint’s foot as he did. “Oh my god no. Just no.”

 

“Mix chili oil in with the lube.”

 

“Hey now that’s probably someone’s fetish.”

 

“Everything is someone’s fetish.”

 

“Well, yes, of course. Quantum Fetish Mechanics says so.”

 

Clint blinked. “I feel like Tony Stark is involved with that theory.”

 

“Well, you’d be right, of course.” He picked up Clint’s other foot with a smile, and got a smile in return.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D/s and painplay ahead folks!

Justin had spent over an hour considering SHIELD Studio’s dungeon. Though the building they resided in was three stories, they’d never had reason to have private dungeons for doms, so they had one reasonably well provisioned dungeon. The ceiling was high enough for suspension, all the restraint points were load tested. Everything was clean and felt heavy and high quality, the color scheme as neutral as possible. The walls were a warm grey carefully picked to work with studio lighting, floors charcoal tile. The restraints were all white or creamy leather and lined, any wood stained honey-golden and the metals mostly brushed to remove glare.

 

It was good enough, Justin had decided, bloody well done actually but impersonal. As much as he’d grown to hate his previous studio the ‘dungeon’ had felt like a second skin, even if he’d done a lot of filming in an office set he’d wanted to take a baseball bat to by the time he’d gotten out of the contract.

 

The talk with Brock over coffee had been interesting.

 

“You’ve said you’ve only worked with women, right?”

 

“Yes. I’m a Christian Grey stand-in, or I was.” Justin was sour. “I’ve accepted I am actually a dom but now I want to have more control over the trappings of it, get rid of the bullshit.”

 

“I respect that.”

 

“So tell me what you need.” He’d said it as an order, and Brock had.

 

Apparently Brock needed a contrast for pleasure, needed pain as a framework for it. He was very chill about being a masochist but admitted it was hard to find someone who in his mind did it right. It wasn’t absolutely necessary to his getting off but he tended to lose interest and get twitchy if he didn’t get hurt on a regular basis. He wasn’t interested in being collared at this point.

 

Justin had talked to Natasha, and looked up some of Brock’s previous work on film, and from that and what Brock had told him, had had to sit down and consider if Brock was a little too far gone for Justin’s tastes. After some consideration he decided to come at it from a different angle. Pain, yes, but maybe contrasting sensations would help take the edge off just as well.

 

Playing to his previous aesthetic, Justin was in polished shoes, slacks and a matching vest, and a dress shirt with the sleeves cuffed up. He’d even buffed his nails. Brock, meanwhile, was in jeans and a muscle shirt and was being an impatient bitch while Justin talked to the camera and the crew.

 

“To review, both he and I can redlight at any time. We will be using the lights, red for stop, yellow for slow, green for continue. This is our first scene together so we’ll just have to see how it works. Everyone comfortable?” He looked at the cameramen, then at Brock. The cameramen gave thumbs up and even bobbed their camera feeds to let the viewers know what was happening.

 

“You talk a lot.” Brock complained, arms folded and scowling as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Please tell me you’re not just all talk because, really…”

 

Justin took two steps, slapped Brock open handed and hooked one foot behind one of his knees while grabbing his shirt. Brock was the combat trained and much larger, but let himself get taken/guided down to his knees, staring up with slightly stunned eyes. “My rule book now, Brock. It’s Sir from now on.”

 

“Yes, sir.” He sucked in a breath when his hair was grabbed.

 

“Shirt off and onto the kneeler.”

 

“I can stand.”

 

“You can, but you won’t until I say so.” He yanked Brock’s hair again and let go, pacing a half circle around him with careful respect to the camera’s eye as Brock moved, shifting to a kneeler bench and taking off his shirt. There was a sturdy Saint Andrew’s Cross in the room but this was the first time so Justin had positioned a kneeler by a bolted down post that had d-rings attached at just the right height. Once Brock was settled he picked up leather manacles and stepped in front of Brock, smiling a touch when the other man’s wrists were offered up immediately. “I’m going to restrain your wrists to this post. Your knees stay on that bench or the scene ends. Color?”

 

“Green.”

 

He latched the manacles to the post and stepped around, considering the pose. It put Brock’s hands far enough above his head to show off his shoulders and back musculature and he nodded once, hands sliding from his wrists to his shoulders. The touch made the larger man inhale deep and side-eye him. Justin ignored it, stepping away and opening a black leather duffelbag of his own, taking out a riding crop. It’s brand new but he’s used ones just like it, and he rested it on one of Brock’s shoulders lightly. “This is a heavy crop, Rumlow. Does it feel like what you want?”

 

“Yes. Yes sir, green.”

 

He smiled obnoxiously. “Good.” And he tucked it under his arm, going back to the bag.

 

Brock growled, glaring at Justin from under his brows before his expression shifted to curiosity because Justin took a candle out of his bag and lit it, putting it on a small table nearby. “Setting a mood sir? I don’t need to be romanced.”

 

“That is a massage oil candle.” He’d already been well aware Brock was often a brat because it made easily irritated doms skip to what Brock seemed to consider the ‘good part’, the actual pain play. But, Justin’s scene, his rules, he’s not going to let the other man bully him into rushing.

 

“I don’t need a massage either.”

 

“You will.” He took a wartenberg wheel out of the bag, setting it next to the candle before moving back to Brock.

 

This is one thing he did appreciate about SHIELD Studio. He’d had a talk with Phil too, talking about how scenes were set up at his previous studio and the fact that they had never given him enough time for a proper scene let alone aftercare and Phil had told him they’d let the cameras run, if they needed to cut shots and be artsy so be it. People who click the link are going into it knowing they’re going to see some pain play if they can’t handle it being done properly, so be it.

 

So Justin can take his time, scuff the braided leather of the crop over Brock’s back until he’s arching into it and aware and frustrated before he swings and lets the crop connect. It’s not a hard strike but it’s enough to cut off Brock’s whining about teasing into a relieved gasp.

 

From there he’s able to set a pattern, laying four diagonal stripes down Brock’s back and giving him a moment to pant and beg before he hits the same marks again. And again. He’s good at being precise and by the time he stops and sets the crop down by the candle and wheel, dark red stripes are in bold relief against Brock’s tanned, sweating skin.

 

“Sir?” Brock’s voice was blurry and he opened a bottle of water, stepping over and kneeling, stroking a hand through the other man’s hair before tugging gently.

 

“I’m here. We’re not done, but I want you to drink some water.” Justin said, making sure he’s loud enough for the mics in the room to pick up. Brock does when the bottle’s set to his lips, drinking about half the bottle before Justin steps away and picks up the candle.

 

It’s meant to burn at low temperature because it’s melting to massage oil, but Brock still keened in shock when the hot liquid was poured over his shoulders to run down his back. It made a gorgeous visual and Justin told him so, all that hard muscle jerking and not sure whether to arch up or away and the slick runs of the oil bringing everything into relief.

 

He set the candle aside and dug his hands into Brock’s shoulders, worked his way down hard and efficient, simultaneously pressing on the crop marks to make his sub hiss and working tense muscles out. It’s a purposefully confusing tangle of sensation, meant to keep Brock guessing and he lingered a few strokes up and down his spine before taking the wheel out of his pocket and running it from the line of his jeans to the base of his neck.

 

“HolySHIT what?” Brock wanted to know, jerking his arms against the manacles, and Justin smirked a bit but otherwise ignored him, rolling around the crop marks, the metal spikes digging in enough to leave indentations. He knows it can feel like it’s about to break skin, draw blood, but this wartenberg wheel’s out of his collection and he knows how hard he can press, and by the time he stands Brock’s groaning and sagged against the pole, head bowed and shivering.

 

The next blow of the crop makes him all but scream, this time in a cross diagonal. Justin lingered long enough to ask for a color and got green before laying into him again. He went slower, checking in every four blows as he started layering them, pale diamonds of untouched skin appearing on Brock’s back around the carefully laid marks of the crop. He can see the tension in the man’s body and sees the second it breaks, Brock gasping and sagging against the post.

 

He dropped the crop aside and moved, unclipping his hands from the post and standing still when Brock latched onto him instead, wrapped his arms around his hips and buried his face into Justin’s hip with no concern for the fact that the dom was hard. Justin stroked through his hair, smiling. “Good boy. You did very well.”

 

“Yes sir thank you sir.” Brock mumbled, voice half drunk, half wrecked, clinging and managing to get his eyes open to stare up at him. “Do you want me to…”

 

“No. You don’t have to do anything. Just ride your high, beautiful.”

 

It probably said a lot that Brock didn’t scoff at or protest the pet name, just sank further against him, so he kept stroking over his hair, the back of his neck and his shoulders. Eventually he was able to ease Brock off the kneeler and sat down on the floor, tugging him to sprawl in his lap. His bag’s just in reach and he leaned, grabbing it and the bottle of water. “I want you to finish the water, okay?”

 

He grumbled but shifted and leaned on one of Justin’s folded legs, turning his head and drinking when it’s tipped to his lips without opening his eyes. He stayed like that until the smell of food interfered with the scent of the candle, cracking his eyes open and blinking at the sight of a container of dumplings resting on Justin’s other leg. “Sir?”

 

Justin just chuckled and picked up the dumpling with chopsticks, offering it out and not surprised when Brock didn’t exactly nibble politely, instead electing to take it in one bite. “Animal. You’re a barely tamed animal.”

 

“Mmh thank you sir.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Well, look who’s actually smiling.” Phil doesn’t exactly work normal hours at the studio, he’s sort of loosely ten to six or whatever he feels like that day, it’s his place and they film whenever.

 

Brock looked up with a smile, making some kind of massive scrambled egg protein thing on the stove. “Justin worked me over. We’re keeping him.”

 

“Awesome.” He offloaded a grocery bag into the fridge, putting fresh cream and a few other things there, then put some fruit in the bowl on the counter. “I take that to mean your scene went well?”

 

“Yeah. I think it’s going online tonight or tomorrow, editing had it.” He stirred the contents of his wok. “Oh, Skye was looking for you earlier, said someone posted something on the internet about you.”

 

“What else is new but thanks.” Phil stepped back out, smiling because seeing Brock mellow was a nice change. The studio actually had a fairly large computer area since they were online, and he employed multiple administrators for the website as well as people who worked digital editing and so on. Skye was loosely in charge of the website part and he let himself in, looking around at the weird arrangement of desks and multitude of computers. Skye had her own office, and he paused in the doorway when he saw a large dog bed. “I have questions. Well, one actually, when did we become a pet friendly workplace?”

 

“We didn’t.” Skye looked up. “It’s sort of an in joke with Ward.”

 

“Is he adding pet play to his kinks or is this just another sad step in a man desperate to be owned by you?” He sat down across from her. “You could just say no, you know.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s that he needs to learn some kind of boundaries at work and realize I’m not joining the other side of the house.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying no to a hot guy laying around my office, good god.”

 

She had a point so he didn’t argue. “Brock said you had something for me.”

 

“Oh! Right, yeah, prepare yourself.” She clicked around and turned her monitor so he could see it if he leaned.

 

A video started and a muscular manscaped guy walked on set, against a background of what appeared to be an eye-searing mix of porn screencaps and title screens, and stared at the camera. “So last night, I’m in a discussion at a party, and this asshole looks me right in the face and says, yeah you’re good, but you’ll never be Phil Coulson.”

 

Phil for his part guffawed.

 

“I know that name, who the fuck in the industry doesn’t know the name but come on. I argued the guy retired out years ago, but no! Apparently he’s just legend in perpetuity, writing sexy stories as other people make porn for him. So it’s official, I’m calling him out.” He pointed at the camera. “Phil’er Up Coulson, it’s time for you to turn over your King of Porn crown.”

 

Skye paused the video, and Phil looked at her. “How long does he go on?”

 

“About seven minutes. Yeah really. It just gets worse from there.”

 

“When did I get crowned King of Porn?” He snickered. “Good god what a douchebag. Seriously. What the fuck is this, wrestling?”

 

There was a several second pause as they looked at each other.

 

“Do you think I can get a fake wrestling championship belt made?”

 

“On it, I’ll do some googling and make some calls, there’s got to be a shop in the Bay area that makes awards that can make this for us.” Skye grinned. “You want real leather and metal right?”

 

“Fuck yes, do you think it can say “World Orgasm Champion” with a logo made out of various dicks?” He’s feeling some genuine thirteen-year-old style glee about this project now.

 

“I’ll get one of our graphics people to throw something together.”

 

“Awesome, use my personal account to pay for it, and see if you can get a specialty wall mount for it because it’s going in my office once we film a rebuttal.” Phil stood. “Excuse me, I’m going to go watch as much Macho Man and Hulk Hogan as I can possibly stand.”

 

She laughed. “You going to run wild on him?”

 

“Oh please, he wishes I would run wild on him. Who the hell is he anyway?”

 

“Fuck, I dunno, some prick trying to make a name for himself. Downside is if you do this, you’ll be giving him publicity.”

 

“Whatever, it’s a lot more fun than any other response and if I ignore him he’ll declare himself Lord of Wangtopia or something.”

 

“Oh god there should be Porn Razzies and Lord of Wangtopia should be a real award.”

 

“What would the female equivalent be?”

 

“Queen of the Swamp?”

 

“Oh god. Okay, I’m out.” He shuddered and left, her laughter following him.

* * *

 

“The problem with writing sexy spies is honestly, Sean Connery beat me to some of it.” Phil muttered, staring at his computer.

 

“When he walks in on the woman in the bath and she asks for something to put on and he hands her heels and sits down looking at her.” Nick said, leaning in the doorway. “That man was a player. I mean, don’t get me wrong I have nothing against the other Bonds…”

 

“Connery. All the way. What’s up?”

 

“Why are our computer people laughing like monkeys on nitrous oxide while designing dick themed wrestling gear? All they managed to tell me was I needed to ask you.”

 

Five minutes later Phil had found and shown Nick the video and was sat back, hands laced together and watching Nick consider.

 

“No, you know what, I entirely agree with the level of maturity of this response.” Nick decided. “I swear, only you could get called out by a Porn Ken. That dude looked like he’s at least twenty-five percent plastic.”

 

“I don’t know when I was crowned King of Porn but I feel like I should defend the theoretical crown.” Phil admitted.

 

“You know I am almost entirely certain we have a dick themed tiara somewhere. I think Rogue owns it.” Nick got his phone out and set about typing her a text. “Maybe she’ll let you borrow it for this response video.”

 

“Where did she even get that anyway?”

 

“She was friends with a wire jewelry artist is what she told me. Personally I was just impressed that the little silver wire wangs included both circumcised and uncircumcised versions.”

 

“Variety is the spice of life.” Phil hummed.

 

“Oh, Justin Hammer talked to me earlier. He’s having to change his phone and email, he’ll let you know his new information once he’s got whatever issue resolved.”

 

“Thanks for letting me know. He did a fantastic job with Brock.”

 

“I saw, he was showing his bruises off to Natasha by the pool earlier. How are things with Clint?”

 

“I told him about Kept, and us. He’s pretty intimidated but I don’t think it’s a deal breaker.” Phil gave Nick a hopeful smile. “He’s coming over again in a few days. Wish me luck.”

 

“Nah, you don’t need luck.” Nick stood. “Believe it or not, you’re pretty worth it.”

 

He pouted. “Only pretty worth it?”

 

“Hey, someone’s got to keep your ego manageable, might as well be me.”


	14. Chapter 14

“So, Justin Hammer has a stalker…” Melinda paused in the doorway of Phil’s office. “You are wearing a crown of penises.”

 

“A tiara of penises. With lead crystal jizz.” Phil agreed, matching her tone. “It’s fabulous. Rogue has excellent taste. Justin has a stalker?”

 

“Apparently. He came in this morning, handed me this picture,” She passed it to him. “And said if she shows up, he’s not here, in town, in state, he does not exist, we didn’t see anything.”

 

“I was told he’s changing all his contact information that he can.” Phil looked at the photo. “Yeah, I know who she is. She’s a former costar of his, was in a bunch of his D/s work as the sub. You know, the secretary all reluctantly going along with the boss’ kink so she can keep her job.”

 

“Ah. Apparently he’s more scared of her than she is of him because his expression was that of a hunted man.”

 

“And we just put footage of him online so she knows where he works.” Phil hummed. “Thank you for telling me. Standard policy, you can neither confirm nor deny if anyone’s here for security purposes. If she shows up you have no idea if Justin is here and if she doesn’t get the picture, call the cops.”

 

“Of course. Just wanted you to know. Love the feather boa, it goes with the tiara.”

 

“I’m channeling Hulk Hogan today.”

 

“I am going back to reception and I do not want to know.”

 

Phil laughed and waved her out, looking at the photo again then going to the internet. It takes less than a minute to pull up Justin’s previous work and figure out that the girl’s name is Ashley. From there he’s able to find her social media and has to sit back from the screen before getting up, grabbing his cane and going to find Justin.

 

He finds his target reading in the courtyard, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and tinted glasses. “You look like someone trying to avoid notice in a 1980s action flick. Seriously.”

 

“Guilty. Here.” He dug a card out of his pocket and held it up. “Phone and email.”

 

“Thanks, I’ll get one of our computer people to update our employee database.” He tucked it into his shirt pocket.

 

“Nice tiara.”

 

“Isn’t it?” He sat down at the table with Justin. “So. What’s going on with this chick named Ashley?”

 

Justin groaned and shut his book, dropping it on the table then burying his face in his hands, pushing his glasses up to do it. “She’s CRAZY. I’ve been trying to get rid of her for weeks. I thought moving from LA to here would help, but apparently not.”

 

“Are we talking hundreds of calls in a week crazy, or boil your bunny crazy?”

 

“Bought into the script crazy! She read the goddamn books and decided that’d totally work in real life!”

 

“Oh god. So it’s the BDSM equivalent of all those tweens wanting to find their Edward or whatever was going on there, I’m so glad I don’t have kids.” Behold the power of contraception.

 

“Yes, exactly, spot on. She hated when I did scenes with other girls. I was _her_ Christian Grey stand-in goddammit. Which clearly meant I was supposed to fall in love with her and leave kink and I don’t fucking know she’s an idiot. I tried to make it clear I was not emotionally available to her, it’s just work and that just made it worse because apparently that’s how the dude is in the books!”

 

“I’m guessing she’s another reason why you got out of the contract you were in?”

 

“Ugh. Yes. I kept telling the producers I didn’t want to do anything with her anymore but I guess she had a lot of fans. Or we did I don’t know.” He folded his arms on the table and put his forehead on them.

 

“Your porn fans were shipping you.”

 

“YES! Nevermind that we had the chemistry of cardboard and water.”

 

“I watched some of your stuff before interviewing you, and I agree, you couldn’t have been less into her.” He agreed. “Which is shitty, I mean come on its porn, what’s the point if you’re not watching two people being into fucking each other’s brains out?”

 

“I am so glad I work here now. But, yeah. Ex-costar wants me to stop being a Dom and let her run things or something, I don’t know, point is she thinks I’m a Prince Charming who ran away and she thinks she needs to talk sense into me.”

 

“Well, she won’t get past the front desk here. I have some lawyers who are experienced with restraining orders and shit if it gets that far.”

 

“… Thanks Phil.” He lifted his head, brows drawing together. “This is freaky, really, I never thought I’d get into this situation. Have you ever gotten stalked?”

 

He scoffed. “A few times. The scary one was a religious nut who wanted me to recant my entire job and seek Jesus because my works had, and I am quoting here, forever corrupted her innocent son. And I was in my mid-twenties and did not have the level of respect I should have had for that much crazy. I ended up with a restraining order against an entire church.”

 

“… Okay, wow. Way to bring my problems into perspective.”

 

“Not my intent. We’ve all got your back man, don’t worry. If you get really worried talk to Brock about it, I’m sure he and his MMA buddies will figure out a way to keep you safe.” Phil stood again and patted his shoulder. “Chin up.”

 

“Thanks, man.”

 

“Not a problem at all.”

 

Skye appeared on a second floor balcony, leaning on the railing. “Hey, boss! Jemma and Leo are about to do an erotic fanfiction critique, want to watch?”

 

“Hell yes I do!” He called up to her with a grin. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

 

“They’re doing a whatnow?” Justin had picked up his book but hadn’t reopened it.

 

“Oh, Jemma and Leo are two adorable nerds, they do fluffy porn together but they also read a lot of fanfic smut in their free time so they do reviews where they’ll actually recommend fics, or bitch about pet peeves and stuff, it’s actually pretty good writing critique but it’s also adorable and hearing their accents read off really bad smut lines is genuinely funny. Wanna come?”

 

“That is a question I normally ask of others.” Justin said with gravity, standing and tucking his book under his arm. “But yes, I could use a good laugh, lead the way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is the second story I've wrote where Justin is being harassed by a twenty something. I don't know why, I guess to me he just seems like a guy that'd happen to? Sorry for the repeating theme I guess. This fic and Subvert were written off the cuff so this is where my brain went.
> 
> On another note, I once had to close my browser and all but scrub my brain because some fanfic writer had decided the perfect term for a lady's private parts during a sex scene was cunny. CUNNY.
> 
> Now, imagine Leo Fitz saying Cunny. That is my gift to you. Enjoy.


	15. Chapter 15

“You’re a complete and utter madman.” Clint decided, looking up from his tablet screen.

 

“This from a man that has an advanced calculus book on his coffee table.” Phil was pondering it. He was still wearing the feather boa but had been forced to return the dick tiara to Rogue after filming his video response. “Glad you liked it. You have no idea how long it took me to get that in one take without breaking down in laughter.”

 

“Considering the next video YouTube wants me to go to is a twenty-minute blooper reel, yeah, I get the idea.” Clint grinned and shook his head. “Stop molesting my math books. I was a math major in college.”

 

“And you run a diner? Wait, so which is your bliss, the diner, archery or math?” Phil was honestly curious.

 

“Archery and therefore math, the diner is an enjoyable means to an end.”

 

“You are a very interesting man.”

 

“This from a guy who posted a five-minute wrestling style rant referring to yourself as the Dicktator. Not that that asshole you were responding to didn’t deserve something like this, good god, what the fuck was he thinking? He could have just said hey you, famous retired guy, stop being so retired and famous you’re cramping my style.”

 

“That is basically what he said.” He reflected. “And come on, Dicktator is fucking clever.”

 

“All puns are automatically terrible. Who came up with that anyway?”

 

“Grant Ward did. If he’s not training with Brock or on set or off doing Grant things, he’s in Skye’s office so he overheard us talking. Just flat out said that wouldn’t a King of Porn be a Dicktator, actually.”

 

“So, what, if a porn name is a street name and the first pet, wrestling name is a bad pun?”

 

“Well they both have to sound good when yelled.”

 

Clint guffawed and shifted, putting the tablet down. “I mean it though. You’re crazy but in a hilariously enjoyable way. I’m glad you’re in my life.”

 

Phil considered then shifted, managing to straddle Clint’s lap in a more or less graceful motion. “Really?”

 

He settled his hands on Phil’s sides before sliding them around to run up and down his back, looking up at him. “Yeah, really.” He’s a little breathless and he’d be embarrassed by it if Phil hadn’t immediately leaned in and kissed him slowly.

 

It’s easy to linger and savor it, just enjoy how Clint tastes and the feel of his strong hands on his back, and his strong shoulders under his hands, but yeah he’s wanted something else for a while and he broke the kiss, eyes barely open as he looked down at Clint. “I want to do something if you’re alright with it.”

 

“I’m open to suggestions.” Clint’s voice was husky, then strangled a bit when Phil shifted and slid down to the floor, ending up between Clint’s knees, smirking up at him. “Ah. Yeah, I am so good with that. You have no idea.”

 

“Good, because I love doing this.” He stroked his hands up and down Clint’s thighs, waiting for him to relax before lingering to thumb along his hipbones, tracing around the bulge starting to show. Clint just licked his lips and stared down at him, so he leaned in and opened his jeans with his teeth, humming.

 

“Fuck.” It’s a whimper that again would embarrass the hell out of Clint if he wasn’t too busy watching his pants be unzipped and feeling Phil’s hot breath fanning over him. “Okay, you’re gunna wreck me aren’t you?”

 

He laughed softly, opening the button on Clint’s boxers and mouthing at him. The feel of Clint going hard against his lips makes him shiver happily. He hadn’t been lying, he does loving doing this. He’s got basically no gag reflex anyway (except for dental implements, damn the luck), but really, good oral is as much about fingers and tongue than being able to deep throat (a topic he’d posted many videos/written many articles about). So he savors the taste of hot clean skin as he took Clint into his mouth and slid down, looking up at him so he can see Clint shudder and sigh, both hands gripping into the couch before moving to rest on and stroke Phil’s shoulders.

 

He shifted one of Clint’s hands to his head as encouragement. His own hands keep busy, one hand sliding up under Clint’s shirt to thumb one of his nipples. The reaction’s fantastic, jumping and squeaking and he filed that delightful bit away for later, his other hand framing the base of Clint’s cock and thumbing his balls gently. Clint restlessly stroked his hair as he bobbed his head, slurred encouragement escaping him, praise that made him shiver again.

 

Yeah, he’s got a few kinks even if he’ll happily accept Nick’s label of ‘French Vanilla.’ Most people like being praised, he supposes but it’s always felt like a borderline physical touch to him, makes him twitch in his pants but he ignores his own arousal and puts his focus on Clint. Learning what makes him simultaneously arch and go pliant, what makes him gasp and keen and whine.

 

Phil accepted Clint’s shallow thrusts easily and groaned around him as he came, pulling back to lick him clean and laughing when Clint grabbed him up onto the couch. “Hey, easy on the knee aw fuck.” He finished on a gasp when Clint grabbed him through his pants, then sank into a hard desperate kiss. Clint licked into his mouth at the same time he got Phil’s pants open and got a hand around him. It doesn’t take much, a few strokes and Phil let himself go, moaning loud into the kiss then sighing.

 

After a few minutes of sitting slouched against each other, foreheads touching and sharing breaths, Phil hummed. “So. I’m buying that drum of lube off Amazon and I’m renting a gymnastics airtrack mat or three, you want in on the party?”

 

Clint about choked on his own spit laughing. It was several minutes before he could ask Phil to expand on that concept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that delay. I went to Wizard World Comic Con ( http://36.media.tumblr.com/244a6d8c91a76577022f19540759ebe6/tumblr_o0xgtdDBCl1resiipo2_500.jpg ) then had to recover from said Con.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, my updates suck lately. I blame shoveling snow. Here's another thousand words at least.

“Another interview? How many employees do we need?” Nick wanted to know.

 

“We’ve got a lot more men than women.” Phil pointed out. “Even with the amount of gay and bi stuff we put out, we could use some more girls here. I’m interviewing a chick. And a lot of our people aren’t purely exclusive to us, they have other jobs. Non-porn jobs even.”

 

Brock instructed MMA, Grant was a personal trainer, Tony did whatever the fuck he did, Natasha was a professional tailor, Thor was an in-demand finish carpenter, Steve was an artist, the list went on and on.

 

“Studio of semi-pro part timers.” Nick grunted. “I see your point though. Why have we had so little luck keeping girls around?”

 

“I have no idea. The ones we’ve kept are quality though.” Phil sighed and grabbed his cane. “Wish me luck.”

 

“You don’t need luck.”

 

Phil rolled his eyes and stepped out of his office, smiling when he saw the hallway partly taken up by the furniture that’d been removed from poolside, as well as stacks of waterproof gym pads and the rolled up bouncy gymnastics mats. The porn studio was coming up on an anniversary and he was turning the courtyard into a bouncy castle setup. And adding a drum of lube partway through. He’s got a semi-rigid and very strong cover that’ll be strapped into place over the pool, and he’s glad he bought it, even if this was not even in the realm of reasons why he’d originally bought it.

 

“So is this an anniversary orgy or what?” Tony wanted to know as he passed.

 

“Well that’s not the intent. I’m hoping it starts safe for work so we can just paste an edited together video everywhere. If it goes to hell after, that’s something else.” Phil laughed.

 

“You will join us I hope?” Thor wanted to know.

 

“He’s got a boyfriend.” Tony rolled his eyes. “No more orgies for Phil.”

 

“Probably no more orgies. I was intending to be exclusive, I’ll ask.” He sighed in an exaggerated way and kept moving, opening the door to reception and pausing at the high speed female chatter happening. He stepped through and saw May cut him a look that was mostly warning with an icing of desperation.

 

Melinda’s tolerance for bullshit was very, very low, and her tolerance for women who thought with their boobs and dyed hair even lower. Which is one of the reasons Phil liked her of course.

 

“Omigod you’re Phil Coulson!”

 

Phil sighed and stacked his hands on his cane in front of him, considering the two girls. “Well, I’m interviewing you.” He said to a brunette who clearly had some muscle, and therefore intrigued him a bit.

 

She stood and offered a hand. “Call me Sif. And yes, I know you have a Thor and a Loki.”

 

“I should just give up and convert at this point, or adopt a pair of ravens, or something. The studio co-owner even wears an eyepatch so he could stand in for Odin, if you gave him enough Ferrero Rocher to bribe him.” Phil admitted. “I have to ask. Is that your birth name?”

 

“I think it’s revenge because my parents were born too late for Woodstock.” She smiled a bit.

 

Oh, he likes this woman already. But, there’s a much less muscly woman eying him like he’s still a piece of meat (which yes, he technically is, but it’s the point of the thing), and he turns to her. “I can’t let you past the door, I’m afraid.”

 

She looked taken aback then recovered. “Well, I’m not staff so I guess that makes sense. I’m actually here looking for someone.”

 

“I’m sure Miss May has informed you we can neither confirm nor deny anyone’s presence here. I’m not going to give you a different answer.”

 

“But his car is here.”

 

“That doesn’t mean he’s here.” In fact, Phil’s pretty sure Justin is parked in the lot outside, but is not present in the building, instead leaving to go talk MMA stuff with Brock (which was actually a huge sign of trust on Brock’s part, he didn’t let his two jobs bleed together much if he could help it). He made a note to tell Justin to park behind the building, or carpool. “And I’m not letting you in. In fact, I suggest you just leave, and avoid this property from now on.”

 

“But…”

 

“My lawyers will eat you for breakfast.” His voice stayed mild, but the ice creeping into it had the desired effect by her expression. Sif, meanwhile, was watching this with interest. “You have five minutes to clear the property. After that, Miss May has my permission to call the cops for trespassing.” He smiled and looked to Sif. “Now that that’s out of the way, shall we?”

 

“Well, yes.” She let herself be ushered through the door, only talking again once he closed it behind them. “She was saying her boyfriend worked here.”

 

“A man she is stalking works for me. He’s already told me about the situation.” Phil led her back toward his office.

 

Tony and Thor watched them go by. “Can I volunteer for death by snu snu?” Tony wanted to know, then protested as Thor cuffed the back of his head lightly.

 

“Ignore them.” Phil suggested.

 

“Wow. He is no different off camera than on camera.”

 

“Yeah. Welcome to my life. Sorry about the clutter in the hallway, we’re going to turn the courtyard into a giant padded-wall bouncy castle affair for the studio’s anniversary.”

 

Sif blinked twice. “Wow. I really hope this interview goes well. I eagerly await the puppy and kitten rainbows and the neverending chocolate fountain, as I assume this is actually some porn-themed combination of Neverland and Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”

 

“Everything you just said is trying to give me acid flashbacks.” Phil opened his office door. “You might fit in just fine here. Sit down, let’s pretend to be professionals about this.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Hey Phil. Want some pie?”

 

Phil looked up from reading an email from Peggy, lifting an eyebrow. “You brought me pie? Where from?”

 

“Hawkeye’s. The owner brought you pie.” Skye walked over and passed him a to go container off a stack she was carrying. “Actually he brought what might be several pies I don’t know.”

 

“Wait, Clint is here?” He took the box because, well. Clint’s pie. “Or did he drop off pie?”

 

“No, he brought it to reception and was grabbed by Jemma and Leo.”

 

He snorted and shoved to his feet. “They will eat him alive. Where’d they take him?”

 

“Oh, on their set.” Skye didn’t so much as bat an eye when he promptly about tripped over his own cane, just steadied and walked with him.

 

* * *

 

Jemma and Leo weren’t dating, exactly, but they were good together and the fact that they also did things like fanfiction porn readings had more or less gained them their own set, a modern apartment setup with several mounts for static cameras. A lot of the actual porn they did, they just set up the cameras and did without cameramen and left the editing to the studio’s editors. It led to a well-produced amateur feel, but they seemed honest and into the moment and they were both actually incredibly intelligent human beings, so they had a lot of fans.

 

Their discussion setup involved barstools and a counter installed for that reason so they had a place to set laptops and tablets, and a white board behind it that had things written on it like “It has been three weeks since we had to talk about My Little Pony” and “Current Banhammer: Sonic fanfiction” “Current Want: ABO with omegas like lionesses” and their twitters, and whatever was the topic of the day was.

 

Which was apparently Five Nights at Freddy’s and JohnLock, because fuck your logic.

 

A third barstool had been brought in, Clint had been giving a “Hello my name is CLINT” name sticker and the “non-porn perspective” sign was on the counter in front of his seat. He looked as absolutely nonplussed as he was.

 

“And Phil just walked into the set if you just heard the door open! Hi Phil!” Jemma waved at him, currently standing behind the two cameras aimed at them, already facepalming.

 

“Clint do I need to rescue you?” He wanted to know.

 

“Uh, no. Not yet?” Clint decided.

 

“Look, I still vote we move Five Nights to the Banhammer box. Even if that means we’re taking Sonic out of it. Why did we even start the rule that we can only Banhammer one thing?” Leo wanted to know.

 

“Arbitrary restriction to make sure we don’t Banhammer everything we don’t like.” Jemma replied. “While I understand that everything is porn to someone, how exactly they’re slapping genitals onto apparently festering robots is beyond me.”

 

“I don’t think you need to Banhammer it because it’s against your hard limits.” Clint was looking at a printout he’d been handed when he’d sat down, expression dubious.

 

“That’d be convenient I admit.” Leo looked at him. “What are you seeing that we don’t?”

 

“Well I only played the first two of these games because jump scares annoy me but if I even barely understand the plot then the ghosts of dead children are in the robots, so any porn involving the robots is by-proxy kiddie porn which is on your hard limit list.”

 

Jemma and Leo both blinked at him. Phil could already envision the editing that was going to be done for this dead silence. Maybe they’d add a cricket to underscore it.

 

“Logic, ladies and gentlemen.” Leo decided, clapping a few times. “Next topic! Phil, grab a stool, we’re talking JohnLock!”

 

He rolled his eyes but grabbed the last stool, walking around onto set as they shifted. He wedged himself between Clint and Leo. Jemma rummaged under the counter and found a sign that said Phil’s name and set it in front of him facing the camera. “JohnLock. John and Sherlock I assume, are we restricting this to the most recent Bramblepatch Cucumber version or just any Sherlock Holmes in general?”

 

“Any Sherlock Holmes including the original novels though I quite like Bunnyhop Cuddleswatch.” Jemma replied without missing a beat.

 

“I’m ambivalent.” Leo admitted. “I’m actually a big fan of Martin Freeman but, I don’t know, Budapest Cupboardlatch plays him like a detective version of Hugh Laurie’s House.”

 

“Wouldn’t a detective version of House just be Tim Roth in Lie to Me?” Phil wanted to know.

 

“Do I need to adjust my hearing aids or is everyone not saying Cumberbatch’s name correctly?” Clint wanted to know, looking between all three of them.

 

“Of course we’re saying Bentobox Cuneiform’s name correctly what are you talking about?” Jemma smiled sweetly at him.

 

He put his head in his hands. “Phil I’m never bringing food to your workplace ever again.”

 

Phil laughed and patted his shoulder. “Enough about Benedryl Cumberbus, what are we talking about in regards to JohnLock? I know that’s the ship, but really, who doesn’t ship those two? You can read the original stories and still ship them reasonably well in an adorably Victorian kind of way.”

 

“Actually I’d like to argue that Sherlock is asexual or greysexual.” Leo replied.

 

He blinked. “Alright, I’m intrigued, start us off by all means.”

 

* * *

 

Clint groaned and collapsed onto Phil’s office couch, covering his face with both hands. Phil watched this and leaned back on his desk, eating pie directly out of the takeout container. It was an apple crumb top and he’d probably have to swim an extra twenty or more laps to make up for it but he didn’t care. “So. Were you okay with what just happened because you signed the release forms while looking wrung out, if I’m honest.”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine with it. Good god that was an hour and a half mind melt.”

 

He laughed softly. “What do you think of Leo and Jemma?”

 

“Fuck. They’re adorable and I kind of want to watch their porn now. Or at least this video podcast whatever the fuck it is.” He dropped his hands and looked at Phil. “Was it convenient? Being sort of able to fuck whoever you wanted?”

 

He snorted. “If I had been able to fuck whoever I wanted then I’d have been able to nail Sigourney Weaver when she was playing Ripley.”

 

Clint blinked. “Well. Fucking touché.”

 

“But seriously I can get you an eternal platinum website membership if you want. Just, y’know, remember that I still exist and I’m not just your porn connection.”

 

He held out his hands and Phil set the takeout box down, stepping over and letting Clint tug him in, looking down at him. “Nah. You’re real, and I like that.”

 

Phil smiled. “I do employ quite a set of characters don’t I.”

 

Clint snorted, setting his forehead against Phil’s chest. “Yeah, what comic book reality did you get these people from?”

 

“Presumably one that has to sell everything already wrapped in plastic to keep the kiddies out of it.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Avoiding responsibilities?”

 

Phil put his hands on his hips. “As opposed to ignoring the fact that I’ve turned my entire goddamn courtyard into a bouncy castle? Fuck you Nick, take off the combat boots and get out here.”

 

Nick leaned in the open slider, looking at his tablet. “Maybe later. Has the Jun Horde figured out it’s open for play yet?”

 

“I figure I have another two minutes.” Phil walked across the air mat to the door. “Which responsibilities am I avoiding?”

 

“I’ve got another two offers for you to novelize your sci fi story. I did some research and these are good offers, Phil.”

 

He tossed his hands up. “It would take the sum total of my focus for weeks to edit it properly into a novel, okay? If you want to see it in print find me an editor.”

 

“Right, shall I also find your maturity while shopping for an editor?”

 

Phil scoffed and flipped Nick off.

 

Nick snorted and set the tablet inside the door and shrugged out of his coat, sitting to get rid of the boots then walking out on the mat. “I find it absolutely amazing you haven’t changed in twenty-five years.”

 

He sighed and rubbed a hand over what was left of his hair. “Some things have changed. For the record be very impressed I’m managing to walk on this.”

 

“I am. Done your physical therapy exercises the last few days have you?”

 

“… Yeah. Clint helped me actually.” He bounced up and down a few times. “So really, why are you nagging me about my writing?”

 

“You say that like I need an excuse, your writing subscribers basically pay the day to day costs of this place.” Nick obligingly held out a hand and let Phil bounce around him with Nick as a stabilizer, which really, is no different than normal so it’s not a particular hardship. “I’m more wondering what your excuse is. You enjoyed working on it even when it got out of control, why the avoidance now?”

 

“Because what’s the point? You really think anyone is going to buy a novel written by a porn star?” Phil wanted to know. “Because I’m not ashamed of my job and never have been but it’s not exactly something I can avoid. If it gets published any media that reviews it is going to lead with RETIRED PORN STAR WROTE ALIEN PORN and honestly I don’t want to deal with that.”

 

“That’s what it is.”

 

“That’s not the only thing it is!” Phil tossed his hands up. “It’s like people who said _Not Exactly Heroes_ was just porn with capes. Yes, okay, sex happens, sex is an important part of humanity and one of the ways we relate and communicate, that doesn’t mean it’s the sum total of it. The people that have already read it are erotica fans, and yeah I got a lot of commentary about the sex scenes but a lot of people were talking about the actual alien design and world design and…” He trailed out and rubbed his eyes.

 

“You’re worried that someone will rip the soul out of your baby if it goes mainstream public.” Nick finished.

 

“.. Yeah. Exactly. And it deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”

 

“So if I told you I also have an animation company emailing me interested in making it into a movie? Think Heavy Metal.”

 

Phil blinked. “I’m not sure if I’m intrigued or horrified.”

 

“How about I reply saying you want to see test animations before you commit?”

 

“Yes, please do that.”

 

“Good! Did it yesterday.” He paused and looked up at one of the balconies. “Do you hear music?”

 

Phil blinked then grabbed Nick and yanked him back as Loki shouted “SAIL!” and leapt the balcony rail landing in a tumble that was half grace half completely not coordinated pile of limbs before rolling to his feet and bowing to them both. “I have taken the liberty of telling everyone else that the party can begin.”

 

“They’ll be coming through the doors right because I rented these.” Phil replied.

 

“Yes, we’re all wondering, what ARE you going to tell the rental company when all of this returns covered in lube because we all know what that that blue barrel is.” Loki smirked at him. “I mean really, you rent a bouncy surface that you’re going to cover in lubricant. This is either poorly thought out or hilarious mass murder.”

 

Phil looked at Nick, who shook his head. “Don’t look at me, he’s got a point.”

 

“Because a slip and slide party sounded fun?” Phil replied with a shrug. “We don’t have to go that direction, it can just stay bouncy and the barrel of lube can become a prop or coffee table or something for all I care.”

 

Grant stuck his head out, noted everyone was barefoot and ducked back into the building. He came out a few moments later, shoes off and taking a few strides before kicking off into a series of handsprings.

 

“I think this is where the uncoordinated people need to get out of the way.” Nick decided.

 

“We’ve got cameras hooked up.” Skye said from above, standing on the balcony Loki had leaped down from. “Stream is live with a thirty second delay so try to keep it work safe for now.”

 

“You know we’re going to have to fight on this.” Grant smirked at Phil, bouncing on his toes in a boxing stance.

 

“You mean you’re going to get your ass whipped on this.” Suggested Brock, taking off his shirt as he walked out.

 

“Guys. Could you not. I did this for fun.” Phil pointed out.

 

“Which is why we want to fight.” Grant replied.

 

“… Fine, just don’t bleed all over it. You guys have really strange concepts of fun.”

 

“Don’t you kink shame us!” Brock put his hands on his hips.

 

“Oh please.” Phil rolled his eyes, walking back toward the door and having to step aside as most of the staff came running out, Rogue and Kurt gleefully carrying beach balls.

 

“If this doesn’t end in us having to take at least three of these idiots to the hospital I’m going to be shocked.” Nick said, watching the twenty or so porn stars bouncing around the court yard as he stepped off the mat back into the building.

 

“You shocked by something?” Tony wanted to know, walking up wearing board shorts and carrying an armful of pool noodles. “I refuse to believe it. You’re not shocked by anything. Well maybe by e-stim.”

 

“Not my fetish.”

 

“Your loss. Cowabunga dudes.” Tony shrugged and stepped past them, bouncing to join the others and handing out noodles.

 

“How long before it’s an orgy?” Phil pondered.

 

“Eh, I give it a few hours so they can burn off being hyper.” Nick decided. “They want to have an orgy for your birthday you know.”

 

“Of course they do.” He huffed, but he’s smiling too. How many people turning fifty got thrown birthday orgies, honestly?

 

Actually he’s not sure he wants to ponder that question.


	19. Chapter 19

The improvised bouncy castle actually managed to stay work safe for longer than expected, just because it was more comfortable to bounce around without one's primary and secondary sexual organs bouncing around.

  
  
It was Jemma that made that observation. She was in jean shorts and a tank bra. Natasha had bucked into a sports bra that probably could have deflected low caliber gunshots and yoga pants. Both had been instrumental in finding Phil, harassing him into changing clothes and putting on his 'exercise' knee brace that he could swim in, and ejecting him out the open French doors so he very abruptly appeared on camera, skidding by and losing his footing, almost saved from a face plant by Loki but ending up taking Loki down instead.

  
  
"This comes out of hair, correct?" Loki wanted to know, sitting up, his black hair plastered to him with water based lube. "Because this is not a sexy look."

  
  
"You could be sexy covered in mud." Darcy shoved off the exercise-mat protected wall, sending herself sliding across the air mat.

  
  
"That is probably someone's fetish." Phil sat up.

  
  
"Jumping into pools fully clothed is a fetish. Or is it the wet clothes? It's hard to keep track. Everything is a fetish." Loki pouted dramatically and flopped over Phil's lap.

  
  
"Hey, hey! Grab me by my pants again and I'm assuming you're coming onto me!" Grant complained.

  
  
Thor and Logan had joined the messy play fighting that Grant and Brock had been doing, then Bobby and Rogue had managed to dump lube on them from one of the balconies. After that it had dissolved into just messy with attempts to keep fighting mostly defeated by the lube.

  
  
"Anyone else reminded of that scene in Transporter?" Brock wanted to know, on his feet only because of years of MMA and consulting for bizarre action scenes in actual Hollywood movies.

  
  
"The thing where he covers himself in oil and uses... are they bike pedals? To make sure he's the only one with traction." Logan reached out and grabbed one of Brock's ankles, yanking his feet out from under him. Brock tried some kind of fancy move that probably should have totally worked, except, well. Lube. So he just wiped out instead, vibrantly swearing.

  
  
"That movie was fantastic and ridiculous." Thor said.

  
  
"It starred Jason Statham, so of course it is."

  
  
"Speaking of things that are probably someone's fetish." Phil snickered, then considered and looked up. "Hey. Skye?"

  
  
"Yeah boss?" She poked her head over the railing. She was managing the cameras and the fact that they were live streaming. Apparently a stream titled "Surprisingly SFW porn stars on a bouncy slip’n’slide" was drawing a lot of traffic.

  
  
"Throw out a company tweet asking for movies that are legit but are probably someone's fetish."

  
  
Leo did a full body slide and Phil held out a hand for Leo to grab so he could stop. "Thanks. Do you know how many times we've nearly ban hammered Disney's Robin Hood?"

  
  
Phil had to laugh, boinging one of Leo's lube-sticky hair curls with one fingertip. "I'm pretty sure there are people trying to find something that will make you two remove Sonic from the penalty box."

  
  
"You know, this is actually something I should do to my MMA trainees. Self-defense in uncertain footing." Brock said, finally on his feet again. "Hey, boss. One of the guys I train with is interested in trying porn."

  
  
"Do you know how often I get emailed by people who want to use this studio as their porny training wheels?" Phil wanted to know. "I hire porn stars. Usually."

  
  
"I was about to say." Tony said. Pepper was seated on a kickboard; he was pushing her around on it.

  
  
"The point is, I'm at a point in my professional life when I don't need a new actor or actress who supposedly was really interested to freak out and either melt down, sue me and/or the studio or both."

  
  
"Or showing up because they want to fuck you." Nick suggested from one of the balconies.

  
  
"Or that. Either way we are livestreaming so you shouldn't say his name."

  
  
Brock nodded to that. "I get you. The studio does have a bit of a rep for being able to fulfill people's muscular badass fetish though."

  
  
"You fulfill the needs of many tumblr users." Phil grinned.

  
  
"Damn right I do!" He grinned and set his hands on his hips.

  
  
"Aaaaand that will be a gif on tumblr by tomorrow. So this guy you know. He wants into porn why? He's MMA I assume?"

  
  
"Former special forces, now MMA. He's never given me a reason, because he operates on moon logic. Really mouthy. You'll like him he never shuts up."

  
  
He snorted. "If I were younger I'd say he sounds fun."

  
  
"He is fun and I'm only a few years younger than you."

  
  
"Hey Phil." Natasha slid over, staying on her feet somehow. "I spoke to my supervisor at my other job."

  
  
Phil beamed. "How is Harry? I haven't spoken to him in ages!"

  
  
"He said the same thing. He'll be back in the states soon and he insists you two go out for lunch. He gave me permission to tailor some clothes for Pepper and I for our film."

  
  
"I am more than comfortable letting you handle wardrobe." He agreed easily. "Peggy sent me a bunch of references, want me to send them along?"

  
  
"Yes please, I have some good references but you can never have too many. How's the script coming?"

  
  
"Honestly it's pretty straightforward, I'm aiming for slice of life. Peggy might end up getting some writing credit because I sent it to her and she corrected some of my slang and such. I'll email it to you both."

  
  
"Thank you. What about sets?"

  
  
"There's a few already built sets for some other projects. We'll need to fly to LA for a few days though, and pay usage fees."

  
  
"Do I need to bankroll something?" Tony asked curiously, pushing Pepper over to join the conversation.

  
  
Phil considered. "Maybe. We might talk later."

  
  
"Awesome."


	20. Chapter 20

"Why are all my actors in the kitchen?"

 

It was a slight exaggeration but not much. He knew that there were two crews filming right now (Steve was on set with Bucky and Natasha, Fitzsimmons were on their set), but most of everyone else in the building was in the communal kitchen.

 

"Someone dumped a box of kittens behind the building." Rogue said, shouldering past him carrying a shopping bag.

 

"Seriously? Who dumps a box of kittens at a porn studio?" He was a little baffled, also moving up to the table where a group of tiny kittens were squeaking on a towel. Well, a few anyway. Another was squeaking in protest in the sink as Justin carefully and expertly washed it under the tap, and another was being dried.

 

"Come on, boss. A porn studio is the perfect place to leave stray pussy." Grant pointed out. He was seated at the table, aiming a blow dryer on low at the kittens there.

 

"Boooooo." Tony complained.

 

"I’m guessing four weeks old." Justin told Phil. Rogue was showing Loki how to mix what looked like emergency formula. "So way too young to be away from momma."

 

"You know a lot about cats."

 

"Enough. I have three. I'd take these in but Prince wouldn’t stand for it."

 

"You have a cat named Prince." He accepted the dried kitten from Brock so Brock could dry the last one.

 

"Yeah, you know. Pussy control."

 

"That's clever on a few levels." Loki mused.

 

"I have two more named Michael and Lucifer. I stole them from my psycho ex costar. Well sort of, she got 'us' kittens and left them with me."

 

Phil was considering the tiny bundle of fur in his palms, which was squinting at him with rheumy eyes. "These little guys don't look so good."

 

"Would you look good if you were dumped in some box?" Rogue asked, then paused when Phil grinned. "No one answer that."

 

"Yeah, they'll need a vet trip. I wanted to kill the fleas and try to get some food in them first." Justin accepted a syringe of formula and fed the one Brock was holding. Brock had the look of someone who wasn't sure how this happened to him, but wasn't opposed.

 

Phil accepted a syringe of formula. "Shouldn't we be contacting cat rescues? Trying to get these guys into competent hands or a foster momma?"

 

"Skye is working on it. There are a lot of no kill shelters around here but its kitten season apparently." Grant hummed, waving the blow dryer back and forth gently.

 

"Most of us really can't foster on our schedules but between all of us we could make it happen if we had to." Rogue pointed out. "And we could probably find them homes."

 

"Yeah as soon as this gets on twitter we'll have plenty of people offering to adopt a porn studio cat." Phil managed not to wince at the tiny needle claws digging into his hand as the kitten damn near deep throated the syringe trying to get at the food faster. "I'm not sure if our health licensing will be okay with this, guys."

 

"If our health licensing lets us do anal on camera but not have cats in the common non-porn areas I have questions because that makes no fuckin sense." Brock looked around for someone to foist the last kitten on and ended up handing it back to Justin.

 

"Good news or bad news first?" Skye asked, pausing in the doorway and taking a photo of Phil, who had lifted the kitten up to face level to coo at it.

 

"Bad first." Phil lowered the kitten, accepting a refilled syringe.

 

"Softy." Grant snickered, feeding one of the ones on the table.

 

"The rescues are pretty swamped. They're looking for fosters right now, but the age of the kittens makes it a lot harder. Unless they'll drink the formula from a bowl of course."

 

"And the good news?"

 

"If we can foster them, they'll guarantee cheap vet trips and help place them."

 

"That's less good news and more a consolation prize." Justin sighed. "Better than nothing."

 

"So." Nick leaned in the doorway. "Should I look forward to this being on Reddit tomorrow if not today? 'Porn studio takes in stray pussies'?"

 

"I beat you to that joke." Grant made a face.

 

"It's apt."

 

"If we keep them to the common areas, it should be alright." Phil put the kitten on the towel. "We can set up a box for them and set up a feeding schedule from volunteers."

 

"I say we keep one." Melinda shouldered her way past Nick and considered the kittens. "It can be a reception cat."

 

Phil looked at Nick, Nick looked back, each silently daring the other to tell her no.

 

"And name it what?" Loki wanted to know.

 

"I'll put a poll online." Skye said brightly.

 

"Fantastic. Let's welcome Kitty Mckittyface to the family." Phil sighed.

 

"Yeah. It’s gunna be that or, like. Spooge." Rogue reflected.

 

"So we can tell people to clean up after spooge?" Brock snickered.

 

"Just post that poll, Skye. We throw ourselves at the mercy of the internet."

 

"Kitty Mckittyface it is!"

 

* * *

 

"So of course they're in your office." Nick observed.

 

"IT will have them most of the day actually. They can work one handed long enough to feed kittens, they get enough practice doing it." Phil paused. "Yeah, that didn't sound right."

 

He snorted and sat down across from the desk, fishing out a kitten and considering it studiously. The kitten seemed mostly nonplussed. "No, it did not. You should be getting test animations and concept art soon. The animator admitted they don't have the funding for the full length feature. They're just really interested in doing it."

 

"Not 3D animation is it?"

 

"2D, computer assisted."

 

"Probably Tony would bankroll it. Who is our audience though? Adult only films rarely see theaters."

 

"Heavy metal is a cult classic. If you script it mostly plot we could get it into theaters as an R and put the adult only on DVD."

 

"Porn and non porn versions? That’s a lot more work for the animators."

 

"Lord of the Rings is what, three hours long or more?"

 

“...point." He sighed. "I'm interested but not holding my breath."

 

Nick stared at him, holding the kitten on its back in one palm and rubbing its belly with the other. “You’re usually the dreamer and I’m the realist. What’s going on?”

 

Phil liberated a kitten from the box. It hissed and chewed on his thumb. He didn’t argue, it was an understandable reaction. “Because it feels like a huge risk? My writing is safe; you know? It costs the company nothing but some of my time and sometimes some of Steve’s time, and it pulls a decent amount of cash from the subscribers.”

 

“A decent amount? It pays the facility’s mortgage alone most months.”

 

“So, yeah. Low risk and high reward. We haven’t made a movie length porn in ages, Nick. I’m not sure here’s even a market for it now, and it gets me down. I have so many scripts, and now this. If we gamble wrong I could bankrupt the company. It’s hard enough to compete in this industry as it is, even an animation is going to be a huge bankroll and time investment.”

 

Nick considered, transferring the kitten to his shoulder. “Good points. Realistic, your worries have merit. But dammit Phil, if you’re not dreaming and pushing the company to keep us fresh and marketable, then who the hell is?”

 

“Is that why you’re letting a company pitch this cartoon?”

 

“It would be a fraction the budget of live action, and be somewhat singular. There aren’t a lot of American porn cartoons.”

 

“Fritz the Cat, Down and Dirty Duck, Heavy Metal.” Phil paused. “So nothing in an easy two decades unless you count the second Heavy Metal.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“No.” He half smiled. “And… yeah. It wouldn’t be that hard to do a hard R script with bonus porn scenes for a DVD release. This studio would have limited interaction with it though.”

 

“Come on, I know you have some people in mind for voices. You told me a few of them and it forever affected how it sounded in my head when I read it.”

 

“True.” Phil conceded. “Not all of them are employees, though. Harry Hart was always who I had in mind for Bhara.”

 

“How did Harry feel about being the inspiration for a lamp slash floating jellyfish fern alien?”

 

“Honored, mostly. He really liked Bhara. Said the character had a lot of dignity for being a jellyfish fern lamp.”

 

Nick hummed and got a business card out of his pocket, leaning to offer it to Phil. “I found a professional editor who would be up to the task of editing this thing. Email him. May as well edit it into a proper book before starting the transition to a script format.”

 

Phil held out the kitten, which snatched the card and started kicking it like the card had insulted its great ancestors. “Yeah, sure. Should I pitch Tony Stark for funding?”

 

“Well. It wouldn’t hurt.”

 

* * *

 

“…Wait, an animated version of your sci fi porn?” Tony blinked.

 

“Yes. Think somewhere between animated porn Fifth Element, and R rated Titan AE. We’d need a Star Wars budget for live action so, really…” Phil trailed off lamely when Tony put his hands up.

 

“Say no more. I’m in. Have this animation company email Pepper so we can actually check out what their studio is up for. But I swear if Ajai isn’t Jessica Rabbit hot, I’m stealing your wrestling belt.”

 

“If she isn’t, this shit isn’t getting made at all, so done deal.” He offered his hand, and Tony enthusiastically shook on it.


	21. Chapter 21

Pepper and Natasha were gorgeous together. This wasn’t exactly a revelation to Phil, who had been doing this job for a long time, and generally counted himself as something of a subject matter expert. Still, knowing something didn’t necessarily diminish the beauty of it in real life.

 

His script had long since gotten Peggy’s approval and the approval of everyone else involved. Other studio actors came in as extras, fleshing out the little WW2-era snapshot. Bucky had even taken his prosthetic off and tucked his mane into a good short-haired wig to play a war vet in the background. They had gotten very lucky and been able to use some sets meant for a TV show set just after WW2, and even had access to the cars and some props. The result so far was not cheap, but it was possibly the best looking piece Phil had written/directed since _Not Exactly Heroes_.

 

And, honestly, it felt good to do something like this again, and made him more confident and less… not scared, but concerned about _Light Chasers_. He’d officially put it into editing, and started a script outline, and had done research. The scope was shocking. They were looking at two to three years until completion and that was if the animation studio only worked on it, which meant no other income during the project. The cost estimate leapt every time he looked at it, and even inflation adjusted _made Not Exactly Heroes_ look like a budget project. But Tony Stark, Forbes list rich guy, just laughed, said he needed a tax write off, and said the estimates were reasonable if they got a quality product.

 

“I believe in this, man. I want to see this happen.” Tony had told Phil, who was having one of Tony’s daiquiris to calm himself. “The time and cost are fine, taking into consideration that this isn’t exactly Disney.”

 

“How are we going to get it into theaters? This needs a major release to even begin to recoup costs.” Phil had managed, looking at folders of early planning and realizing why he’d stayed in porn. ‘Real’ movie making had so much he’d never had to learn.

 

Tony had just patted his shoulder and told him not to worry about it, and reviewing the day’s work for the still unnamed WW2 piece (working title ‘Not Scandalous At All’, after there being nothing scandalous about two young women living together, better title desperately needed), it was easy, at least, to worry slightly less.

 

“I haven’t acted since a play in high school.” Pepper admitted, taking her hair down as she came into the room.

 

“Everyone else’s loss. Honestly, you’re giving a sterling performance. You’re believable.” He smiled a touch at her. “You’re charming, realistic and come across as honest.”

 

“I’m proud then because it is hard to even smile in that underwear.” She laughed and flopped into a chair.

 

“You ladies wanted world war two and I got you it, including the 1940s underwear.”

 

“You are an accurate, but cruel, man.” Natasha said as she came in.

 

“Both of you are doing fantastic even with pointy Madonna boobs.” He shut off the footage with a laugh. “Any feedback for me?”

 

“No real complaints. This is wonderful, actually, we need to do more work on sets like this.”

 

That gave him pause. “I’ll look into it.”

 

* * *

 

“Long week?” Clint sounded as amused as he was, leaning on the diner counter and kissing the top of Phil’s head. Phil’s head was on his folded arms, and he only offered an I’m-dying moan in answer, which made Clint laugh. “Oh, poor baby. I started reading _Light Chasers_.”

 

“Mngh. You subscribed to me? I would have given you a pass code.” He got his eyes open with effort.

 

“You cost less than WoW man, it’s fine. I like doing this the honest way anyway.”

 

“What do you think?”

 

“I like the storylines, the mystery compliments the main plot and it never disappears so far into metaphor or worldbuilding that it crawls up its own ass. I think you need to hire Tool and Enigma for the soundtrack.”

 

That made him get his head off the counter. “Bizarre combination but I agree, that works.”

 

“I can tell you got some inspiration from Babylon 5, and I think Barbarella.”

 

“Guilty.”

 

“I like the lead character’s practicality. Which I have to say makes the ship name even more out of left field. Seriously why is the spaceship named 13 Fishes?”

 

He took a slow drink of his coffee and shrugged. “Came to me in a dream, and seemed like something a rich hippie would name a ship.”

 

“I won’t lie man, it sounds like an amazing ship, but not practical for jobs like the crew does.” He paused. “Which I guess is the point right?”

 

“Right. Not really a spoiler, Berkley actually owns the ship, not Costa, via salvage.”

 

Clint burst into laughter. “The goddamn cook owns the ship?”

 

“Yep. Got salvage title for it. 13 Fishes was supposed to be scrapped, but the atrium was still working so the crew chose to restore her instead, because psycho design or not, a working atrium the size of 13 Fishes’ atrium is worth more than scrapping her. By the rules of the story anyway.”

 

“Nah man it makes sense. Like setting up an aquarium, it takes ages and the first fish die. Except this is a crew instead of fish. Or also fish. Is it called 13 Fishes because of the alien flying fish in the atrium?”

 

Phil shrugged. “It was a dream that started it all. A low gravity garden with aquariums only held in place by frames and surface tension, and flying fish jumping in between them, and a giant floating jellyfish gardener.”

 

“I like it but I assume you took acid at some point.”

 

“Once or a dozen times. Want to see the animation concept art as I get it? I’ve gotten sketchups for most of the main crew and the 13 Fishes.”

 

“Hell yes I want to see it!”

 

“Hey are you getting back in the kitchen or am I making this order?” Kate wanted to know.

 

“Going, going. Phil, want to come watch me shoot this weekend?”

 

“I’d love to.” He watched Clint go, still with no small pleasure, Kate putting the order up before coming over to him.

 

“Okay, I’m curious. Animation?” She leaned on the counter by him. “I try not to ask you stuff because you already get enough nosy strangers but that stuck out.”

 

“My sci fi erotica story might be becoming a full length animated feature.” He smiled at her expression. “I know, it’s kind of nuts even framed against the rest of my life.”

 

“No, I’m kind of into it actually.”

 

“Hah, got your number now.” He laughed when she swatted him, and finally put his order in. He was done and eating pie when Clint reappeared. “Hey. Want to come to SexPo with me later this year?”

 

Clint gawked a little. “What? That’s like going to ComicCon with Batman. I’m in.”


	22. Chapter 22

His name was Wade Wilson, and Phil’s first thought on seeing him was ‘Porn Ken.’ Then he got a better look (buzzed short hair, ridiculous body, Golden Girls shirt and ridiculous coat, smile that every parent warned their children about), and upgraded to ‘Porn Ken with personality.’

 

Which was GI Joe, right? Barbie’s married to Ken but comes with GI Joe?

 

Whatever, this guy was indulgence dipped in bad decisions, and given the grin he offered upon seeing Phil, potentially a dessert order of ‘crazy.’

 

“You know I like to think I’m pretty cool about non-work friends visiting in spite of the security we pretend to have.” In that not just anyone can get past reception and all the doors leading outside are locked. “But I still need work to get done. You’re Brock’s friend right?”

 

Wade looked at Brock between bites of taco. He had apparently brought take-out for Brock and himself. “I dunno, am I a friend or a client, man?”

 

“You’re a pain in my ass is what you are.”

 

“Ooo sassy.” He looked back to Phil. “Both probably. I’m guessing asking you to sign my girlfriend’s dildos would be weird.”

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time, but you don’t want sharpie or paint marker up there, so you’d have to retire what I signed.” Phil was a little bemused, looking to Brock. “Is this the one that was contemplating porn?”

 

“I shall have you know I don’t contemplate my porn, I study it like I have a final to pass.”

 

“Apparently he and a lot of my other clients I have choose me for the porn thing as well as my long resume of personal training and MMA.” Brock looked grouchy.

 

“And action movie stuff, he’s hooked into like three worlds.” Wade added.

 

“My question goes unanswered.” Phil said dryly.

 

Wade offered a churro. “My girlfriend said she didn’t want to share my naked ass.”

 

He accepted the churro. “I’m guessing it’s a very spectacular ass.”

 

“I work at it.” Wade beamed.

 

Phil considered while chewing sugary goodness, and had a realization. “I’ll be right back.” It’s not a long walk back to his office, but going through Light Seekers on his tablet and finding a good passage took a few minutes, then he had to find a digital camera that was charged before limping back. Wade and Brock were talking horror movies when he came in and thrust the tablet at Wade. “Do me a favor and read the highlighted passage.” He got the digital camera on and switched to video.

 

“What’s this?” Wade stared at it a moment. “Is this a script?”

 

“Yes.” He had the camera in one hand and the half-gone churro in the other.

 

He stood. “Can I ham it up?”

 

Brock muffled an ‘oh god’ into his taco.

 

“Yes. Want me to do the line before?”

 

“Yeah, do you need this back?”

 

“No, I wrote it. I don’t care what you say, a chainsaw is a terrible idea in low-g.”

 

“Blasphemy! I can think of half a dozen ways this can be useful and another half dozen if you let me use it in a fight!” Wade held the tablet in one hand, waving the other. “This is a wondrous device, and I deserve it! I promise if you let me buy it you will never regret it.” Wade blinked, then looked at Phil. “Chainsaw fights in low-g? I never knew I needed that in my life.”

 

“What about chainsaws?” Skye poked her head into the kitchen.

 

“I think I found a voice for Ansro.” Phil told her, then looked at Wade. “Ask your girlfriend how she feels about you voice acting and get back to me.”

 

“Ohh. Yeah that doesn’t include my naked ass so she might be okay. I mean she already okayed me stealing your photographer to bring home.”

 

“Is Peter okay with this?” Phil looked at Brock, who shook his head.

 

“Right. Phil, finish the churro and come with me.” Skye decided. Phil pocketed the camera, took the tablet and walked with her. “Soooo how do you feel about doing a new cock mold?”

 

“I already did one, it sells reasonably well, I’ve signed it for people at SexPos. My cock hasn’t magically changed since then unless you count age.” Phil said once he’d swallowed the last of the churro. “Why do I need to do another one?”

 

“Because the new ones are a lot better detailed, we can make it a dual hardness dildo so it has a firmer core, and because I put a poll up already and got a lot of votes for you doing a new one. I actually put up a preorder with TBD as delivery and there are preorders happening.”

 

He stared at her. “God dammit, you were supposed to poll kitten names not cock molds.”

 

“I did both!”

 

He groaned and rubbed his face. “Fine. FINE, if this is what people want. What was even the question?”

 

“ ‘If we redo our life molds for more detail and dual hardness, who do you want molded first?’ “

 

“Seriously, me?”

 

“That’s what you get for being an icon.”

 

“What’s the kitten’s name?”

 

“The internet chose the tortie and white female for us to keep. The second poll was for the name, and that poll is still going. A subreddit has come to be, and there’s currently a top five that are being fought over. It should be noted I remarked that extra brownie points are given to a name we can comfortably say in public.”

 

“..What’s the current top vote?”

 

She got her phone out, shuffling the display. “Sasha.”

 

“Sasha Grey. If that wins I’ll have to call her, I haven’t talked to her in ages anyway and I think I owe her lunch.” Phil reflected. “But, it would work better on a grey cat.”

 

“That is the argument happening on twitter yes. Next up is Yuki.”

 

“Japanese for snow. I’d take it.”

 

“Yuri.”

 

“Girl on girl hentai or a Russian dude.”

 

“Fluffy.”

 

“Not fluffer?”

 

“I swear to god, Fluffy. Most recent and up and coming is Daisy.”

 

“… That’s adorable and I’d take it.”

 

She tapped at her phone. “Your opinions have been voiced, and will likely be ignored. I’ll schedule for the cock molds.”

 

“Fantastic, I’m going to go hide in my office a while.”

 

“You big baby, the new mold making kits are warm.”

 

“Oh thank everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might post some gratuitous Phil/Clint porn next, any thoughts?


	23. Chapter 23

“Do you have any medieval scripts set aside right now?”

 

Phil looked up at Loki leaning in his office doorway, blinking once. “What kind of medieval are we talking? Because nothing I have is what you could call historically accurate.”

 

Loki laughed softly, stepping fully into the office and sitting across from him. “A bit more Dungeons and Dragons than Shakespeare?”

 

“Yeah that’s one way to put it. I have all sorts of fantasy tropes in my ‘no budget’ folder. Why do you ask?”

 

“You know I also do stage acting.”

 

“Yeah, Shakespeare and so on. You’re good.”

 

“So I have a lot of theater connections, and in this case I have a location for us. Bit of travel but they’ll rent it to us for up to a month for nearly nothing. If we spend a bit we’ll get horses and props with the deal.”

 

He blinked and sat back. “Well recent feedback has suggested more high production value pieces would be very well received. There is a market for porn with plot that’s pretty. Can you email me the particulars?”

 

“Already have, pull it up.”

 

Phil shifted to his email and did so, following a link to the location. “Well holy shit, you have connections.”

 

“Of course I do. Though I will admit I didn’t have anything specific in mind. I just dress up well and look good with a sword, and it’d be a chance to go back to my real hair color for a bit.” He saw the look and gestured vaguely. “You know I dye my hair black because I have been bitched at for staining the showers and towels here.”

 

“Oh, yeah I mean, that knew. I just have no idea what your hair color actually is.”

 

“Damn near strawberry blonde.” He smiled ruefully at Phil’s expression. “Yes, I know. I wear black well, and the look sells, but I assure you, in my natural color with some facial hair I am regal as fuck. I’ll find pictures for you.”

 

“Please do because trying to imagine it is mind bending. I’ll give you access to my scripts folder, and if this pans out I’ll make sure you get production credit.”

 

“Now that might actually look good on my acting resume.” He stood. “And I suggest we somehow get Kurt into elf ears, he’d rock the look.”

 

“You aren’t wrong. Thanks for this, I’m to my waist in sci fi again and need the break.”

 

“My pleasure.”

 

* * *

 

“Fantasy trope porn? If I don’t get to be a half elf thief I will cry.” Tony threatened, holding one of the kittens.

 

“LARPing porn. I’m surprised it isn’t done more often.” Leo was thoughtful. “Fantasy AUs are massively popular in fanfiction.”

 

“If we’re thinking ahead it might be a good idea to film one that could become a series.” Nick was making drinks at a poolside tiki bar that had appeared when Phil wasn’t looking.

 

“That’s actually a good idea. I don’t have any scripts set up that way, but I have a few long ones I could adapt.” Phil was thoughtful. “Just keep in mind, our special effects budget is limited. No halflings or gnomes, probably dwarves are out too, and we only have a few people who might pull off half orc.”

 

“Are we Pathfindering this?” Steve wanted to know. “And I refuse to be an elf.”

 

“I baseline to Dungeons and Dragons. Far less weird religious overtones than Lord of the Rings, and less chance of being sued.” He admitted.

 

“I’m alright with it being an inspirational basis.” Loki is thoughtful.

 

“Hell let’s roll up characters and put our character sheets online. The Tumblr division of fans would love that.” Thor mused out loud.

 

“So, we’re doing this?” Phil asked, looking at those gathered listening. “Because we’d be committing a good bit of staff, time and travel budget to this.”

 

“You’re asking if we’re good with a slightly more porny, lot less violent, Game of Thrones.” Rogue pointed out.

 

“She has a point.” Natasha nodded. “If the writing is good enough and we get some advertising up, it will make money. Provided the location is fine with being center point in a love not war Game of Thrones esque series.”

 

“There is that.” Phil looked at Loki.

 

“That I can’t answer. But, I know a few other places we may be able to branch out to.”

 

“I have renfair connections. SCA and so on.” Logan said. “Semi authentic props, costuming, guys who like hitting each other with swords? I can probably get any of those.”

 

“You SCA?” Rogue looked at Logan, who only smiled a bit.

 

Phil accepted a drink from Nick, a legal pad on his lap as he wrote notes. “Alright, I’ll budget for some non-porn extras.”

 

“This all sounds great, guys. Like fantastic fun actually, but what is it about?” Jane wanted to know. “It’s lovely that we have all this buy-in but I think we’re ahead of ourselves.”

 

“I’ve been going through Phil’s shelved scripts.” Loki gave Thor a beer before starting his own drink at the bar. “There’s a few gems in there, but a lot of it is older and none of the fantasy ones will entirely suit our purpose. There are a few characters and concepts that we could adapt. One that Thor and I could easily fit into involved two princes, brothers, in a bit of a grudge match.”

 

“I thought we were supposed to be acting.” Thor said cheerfully, laughing at the look Loki gave him.

 

“That’d explain having a central location.” Bucky reflected. “The main house belongs to royalty. Plenty of room for plot there as well.”

 

“Alright, I can work with that.” Phil wrote it down. “Let’s say an hour long pilot, and if it goes to series, half hour episodes, hour long finale. Everyone who wants to be involved, roll a character and send it to me.”

 

“I’ll send out a memo to the entire studio about it, since not everyone is here.” Nick said. “With a note that fantasy races have to be achievable through basic makeup and practical effects.”

 

Phil nodded. “Right, so all humanoids to start. If this goes very well, I’ll try to get our effects budget increased.”

 

“I’ve never played Dungeons and Dragons.” Grant said after a beat.

 

“Someone will walk you through it.”

 

“Are we all starting at level one?” Tony wanted to know.

 

“Does it really matter?” Phil saw the looks from half of those present. “Fine, everyone starts at level five. Core cast might be bumped up higher. I’m apparently DM so please, no stupid multiclassing or munchkinning. Specialty classes are allowed if reasonable.”

 

Darcy tossed her arms up. “Woohoo, I can get out my swashbuckler from when I played in college!”

 

“How is this studio solid nerds?” Brock groaned.

 

“I basically hired you for the jock fucking nerd trope so don’t bitch.”

 

“And now the nerd whips him black and blue, oh how the tables have turned. Sorry I’m late guys, but I brought a bunch of donuts.” Justin walked out of the studio, bearing a stack of donut boxes. “What did I miss?”

 

“Fantasy trope porn, complete with D&D character sheets. You in?” Tony relieved him of a box. “Oh and they’re Krispy Kreme, you marvelous man.”

 

“Hell yeah I’m in. I even have some wardrobe for it.”

 

“For the record between this and Light Seekers my plate is full.” Phil warned. “As it is we might be recording voice acting and this at the same time.”

 

“You know boss if we start filming in about a month we’ll probably get the pilot done in time for SexPo.” Natasha was looking at the calendar in her phone.

 

“In addition to Light Seekers being in novel format by then. And maybe a very rough teaser preview for the animation. Maybe.” Phil groaned, rubbing his eyes.

 

“No pressure.” Nick patted his back.

 

“Yeah right.”


End file.
